NOBLE
by Blaster482
Summary: I am certain the idea of telling a story in which Noble Team survives Reach is not original, but I wanted to take this a step further. What if Noble Team survived Reach despite everything that happened in campaign? Kat? Still shot through the head. Emile? Still stabbed by an Elite. Follow this story to uncover how Noble Team, despite the odds, managed to live on in Halo's history.
1. Chapter 1: There Will Be Another Time

_August 30, 2552 22:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

The past two hours were nothing more than a haze of gunfire and flashing memories of a once so distant, bloody past. Shield's cracked, helmet lost to the fog of war, the Spartan followed closely alongside the heavy duty stretcher as it was rolled through the murky, barren hallways of a long abandoned facility. The walls were cracked apart, the floors coated in dirt and rubble from years of inactivity. Yet it was quiet, unlike the world around. Walking down the corridor, it was almost possible to block out the noise of fast spreading fires and plasma cannons. Almost.

"Sir, there's nothing you can do for him," the ODST attempted to explain.

"Emile!" Six called out, putting a hand on the motionless Spartan's shoulder.

"Six!" the ODST tried to calm him down, to no avail. It was a hopeless endeavor to stop an emotional Spartan.

"Emile, wake up! Wake up!" Six continued to beg, lightly shaking the body as they moved. The nurse on the other side of the stretcher remained oddly silent during the ordeal. Six continued to desperately shake, his gaze falling to the rubble filled corridor. When the nurse informed him the energy sword had punctured Emile's lung and stomach, he believed there was a chance his friend would make it. Alas, there was no motion. The group neared a much brighter room, cleaner than the debris filled corridors leading up to it. Six prepared to say his final goodbye, when a hand moved. Fingers twitched, and he looked over to Emile's still throbbing left hand. It balled into a fist. "Emile." He watched the man's helmet tilt ever so slightly in his direction, but there was little else in the way of movement. Nonetheless, Six wrapped a hand around the man's fist. "You're not dying. You hear me?!" His voice became shaky. "Not today." Then the nurse finally spoke up.

"Sir, we need you to remain outside," the woman in her mid-twenties said as she pushed the stretcher into the room.

Six stood motionless as the nurse rolled Emile inside, and watched in vain as the doors shut in his face.

"Just wait, Six. Trust me, you get the easy part of this deal," the ODST remarked, standing a short distance away from the nearly seven foot war machine.

"How did you even find him?" Six questioned, still staring at the doors ahead of him.

"Our crew intercepted chatter from the ship breaking yards," the ODST explained. "We were hoping to get off Reach, but the Covenant… without Spartans we were too slow. We must have missed you by about fifteen minutes. However, we did find the other up by the gun. Normally there'd be no point in trying to pick up a dead Spartan, but that was the thing: our doctors didn't believe he was dead. Unconscious? Sure. An energy sword will do that to you, but if it missed the heart, which it had, there was a chance."

"He was motionless," Six argued.

"Of course he was. Coupling the fact he was unconscious with him wearing some of the heaviest armor in the UNSC, there would be no motion. That doesn't equate to death, though he was close," the ODST continued to explain. "Yeah, the hardest part of the procedure from here will be getting him out of all that armor. It's definitely more of a hindrance to injured Spartans than a help, but the doctors can do it."

"I just… I feel so helpless," Six uttered, shaking his head in defeat.

"We're on a doomed planet, sir. I'm sure you've gotten used to that by now," the ODST replied. "Now come on. Why don't I show you around the rest of the facility? There are survivors just dying to meet you."

Finally, Six turned. "You never told me your name."

"Sergeant Sotiras," the man answered.

"Odd name," Six remarked.

"It's Greek," Sotiras replied. "I was the only member of my Orbital Drop Shock unit to successfully land in New Alexandria the third day of its siege. If I recall, you were the one who got our civilian transports out of there," he said, turning to lead the Spartan away from the operating room.

"I was just doing my duty," Six replied, walking alongside the man.

"Above and beyond, I say. You must have quite the kill tally by now. Would've been a shame for it to have all ended out there in that killing field," Sotiras continued to compliment the Spartan's accomplishments.

"The day's been… something else entirely," Six remarked, his mind flashing back to the prior events that bought his life a few more hours.

#

_August 30, 2552 20:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Screams filled his head as the coolness of blood boiled to the surface beneath his armor. Shields cracked and helmet no more useful than a tin bucket, Six barely managed to stand against the tide of battle, if it could even be aptly named a battle. No, there was no battle to be had. This was merely an execution. With Covenant dropships soaring over enemy controlled skies, there was no hope in a fair fight. While Grunts and Jackals encircled him, they were no true challenge. For the briefest of moments, Six had believed he could outlast the flood that was suffocating his world. However, when his enemy realized he would not go down easily, they unveiled their fangs. Sangheili Elites of every rank and status rushed his position, desperate to be the one who killed a demon.

Six fired into the body of a fumbling Ultra, downing it in half a clip, then whirled around to slam magnum rounds against the skull of a General. Running low on ammo, he holstered his sidearm as more approached. He was forced to unload the last of his rifle's magazine on a Minor and an Officer, only to be toppled by another Ultra. Behind the Ultra stomped a Field Marshal, not interested in a fight but rather looking to watch a human struggle at the end of his life.

Six was able to knock the Ultra off him just as an Elite Zealot approached. With the last of his sapped strength, he swung his leg toward the monster, shattering its shields and sending its energy sword flying. However, before he could recover, the Ultra was back on him. He rolled to the side, dodging the Elite's energy blade before sending an elbow crashing against its helm. He then looked over to the Zealot, and watched a blade approach his chest.

Alpha and Omega. The beginning and the end. That was all he could think of. The death he had long been avoiding had finally come to greet him. The Lone Wolf would truly fall with no one to catch him. Yet there was little unsatisfaction. It was he who chose to stay behind so others could live, and he did so again and again. He had given Reach everything, but it was not enough; it could never have been enough. In the end, he understood there never was any real chance at victory. This was not a battle he could win anyways.

As the last surviving member of Noble Team on Reach prepared to breathe his last, there were no regrets. With the blade at the precipice of his chance, there was a sudden shudder across his body when the weapon did not enter. Instead, he watched the Zealot's skull erupt as an anti-material round collided with it. The Ultra on the opposite side of him stood dumbfounded before a second bullet tore apart its shielding and sent it crumbling to the ground.

Six's death-glazed eyes attempted to peer through the smog and find his savior, but there was no point. His lungs were working overtime, and his heart pounding too exponentially for him to focus on anything but recovery. Then, a voice broke the plasma-filled atmosphere.

"Spartan! Get up!" a person shouted.

By now the Field Marshal had turned, energy sword at the ready. He scanned the surrounding buildings, and eventually found his quarry atop a nearby structure which had most of its roof caved in. The Marshal reached for his Plasma Rifle when he heard movement form behind. Soon he felt his body being pulled backwards, and a blade was imbedded in his throat a second later.

Six released the husk of a warrior moments later, crumbling to the ground himself from pure exhaustion. His breathing was heavy, and sweat was pouring from his scalp. Still, he was able to crawl near the Marshal's body and rip his knife free of its throat before the sound of more Elites approaching caused him to stumble like a rabid animal toward the nearest structure.

"Come on! Come on! I got a Mongoose. If we don't leave now, we're dead," the soldier called out, sliding off the broken roof to land inches from Six's position. "Can you walk?"

Through gasps of air, Six nodded.

"Good," the soldier said. Upon closer inspection, Six realized he was looking at an ODST. Then the trooper looked over Six's shoulder. "Can you by chance run?"

Six staggered to his feet before awkwardly fumbling over himself in the direction of the Mongoose his only ally on perhaps all of Reach had for them. The ODST continued to provide covering fire, but with Covenant Wraiths approaching, there was little he could do to stem the tide of oncoming hostile forces. Eventually, Six was able to clamber onto the backseat of the Mongoose as his savior came sprinting toward him.

"Let's ride," the ODST said as he stepped on the accelerator. The pair raced away from the kill zone as more Phantoms swooped down.

"How'd…" Six attempted to say, but he found himself slumping in the seat.

"How'd I find you? You weren't the only one trying to make it to the _Pillar of Autumn._ All teams in the local area were making their way to the ship when it finally took off. In a last ditch effort for survival, many began rallying at the very place you were about to be executed at. Why do you think so many Marines and Spartans had fallen there?" the ODST explained. "I happened by hoping to find more survivors to bring back to base, but you were it."

"Base?" Six continued to ask, but he felt himself too far gone to say anything more.

"Hey, if you need to rest, rest. We're in the clear for now," the ODST attempted to comfort the exhausted Spartan. A moment later, he felt the weight of a super soldier slumping against his body as he continued to drive southwest of the Aszod ship breaking yards. Squadrons of Banshees and Phantoms would pursue, but eventually lose the pair after they entered the hollowed out scraps of an engine once belonging to that of a Halcyon-class cruiser. Continuing down once buried tunnel systems, the ODST would lead the pair into the relative safety of a facility buried beneath decades of lost history.

#

_August 30, 2552 22:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

As the soldiers journeyed down one of the facility's numerous dark corridors, Six abruptly turned to Sotiras. "You never told me what this facility is, or was."

"It's one ONI seemed to want kept under wraps. Doctor Glasgow says this facility, formerly known as SHIELD Base, was decommissioned about thirty years ago due to cost of upkeep or something, though that sounds a little fishy to me," Sotiras began to explain. "Whatever the case, ONI left this facility to rot when the much more advanced SWORD Base was founded. Fortunately, ONI left quite a few toys behind for us to use."

As the pair continued their chat, they soon rounded a corner to what appeared like a lobby, though a single dimly lit bulb was the only source of light to be had in the room. Spiders creeped and crawled between the borders of the room, though none paid them any mind. What appeared to be the original entrance to the lobby was caved in with heaping mounds of concrete, and sitting on a dust covered couch nearby was a pair of adults in their mid-thirties. The male had a sharp face, with short, ragged black hair shooting up from his scalp. He wore a simple red shirt and jeans, while the lean woman with blonde hair wore a red sweater and jeans of her own. Upon seeing the soldiers, the pair stood.

"Oh thank goodness, another Spartan," the man exclaimed. He kept hold of the woman's hand as they rose from their seats. "After everything that's happened, we were in dire need of a miracle."

Six nodded to the pair. "How'd you all end up here. I thought Reach's major cities were evacuated."

"Glassing too close to my family's home forced us to flee Quezon on foot," the man explained. "We stumbled upon a convoy of soldiers transporting Doctor Glasgow and his team to the Aszod ship breaking yards and joined along, hoping to find a ship off planet."

At this, Six paused. "Who is this Doctor Glasgow? You all keep mentioning him."

Sotiras stifled the slightest of laughs beneath his helmet. "He's the reason we're all here, and why you're friend is still kicking."

"Would've thought I'd heard about him if he's so great," Six remarked.

"He's typically performed medical work on Marines, but has studied much about Spartans and their famed Mjolnir armor," Sotiras continued to explain. "Anyways, he apparently worked here for three years before its closure. That's how he knew where it was when we arrived in Aszod only to find no ships."

"How convenient," Six uttered to himself.

At this, the man standing across from him spoke up again. "You have no idea how much in means to us seeing a Spartan like you again. Our daughter… you can't imagine how difficult it is to lie through our teeth and tell her everything's going to be okay. Especially after all this."

Six stared at the couple, unsure of what to say. Rarely had he interacted with the very people he was charged with protecting. "I.. uh, appreciate your confidence in me."

"I'm John," the man finally greeted, extending a hand to the towering figure.

There was a hesitation from Six. How lightly would he need to squeeze the man's hand in order to prevent it from being snapped to bits? Then, after a moment of staring at the appendage, he outstretched his own hand and together they shook. "I'm Spartan-B312, designated as Noble Six," he said.

"I'm Lisa," the woman spoke up, drawing closer to her husband in the process.

Before the group could continue discussion, however, a pair of Marines suddenly appeared at the opposite end of the lobby. "Ah, there he is!" one of them blurted out.

At this, Six bit the side of his mouth to keep from smiling. He was unsure how much help he would actually be in a fallen world; but, the overpouring confidence of the Marines was enough to fill him with some sense of pride. It even managed to take his mind off Emile. "Marines," he greeted.

"I'm Corporal Lance," the older of the two replied before looking to the other. "And this is Private Gage."

"Boy oh boy, quite the day for Spartans, isn't it?" the private remarked, hands on his hips in satisfaction.

"What do you mean?" Six asked, glancing over to Sotiras in confusion.

"I was gonna tell you…" Sotiras began to say, but the private cut him off.

"Why, you and that poor guy on the stretcher aren't the first two we've picked up. The other's been attempting to calm his nerves within the armory. Told us his designation was Spartan-A259, though he never gave us an actual name," Gage said.

Six's body froze. He knew the designation all too well. "Where is he?!" Six demanded.

Gage freaked. "He's just down the hall behind us," he uttered, body shaking from the Spartan's tone.

Six took off in a dead sprint down the hall past the Marines. He had not seen the soldier since landing in Aszod. One after another, everyone he had come to know fell. Now, as if by some divine proclamation, they were returning from the abyss of death. He rushed through the door at the end of the corridor and found a man leaning up against a mounted M247H machine gun. Still wearing his blood splattered blue armor, the man appeared unwell. His head was in the palms of his hands when the sound of approaching feet forced him to look up. Six was left staring into the augmented blue eyes of a man he had long respected since the beginning of their campaign together.

"Six?"

"Carter," the Spartan replied.


	2. Chapter 2: Impossible Made Difficult

_August 30, 2552 23:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Amidst the barren cafeteria, Private Gage managed to cook up some of the rations they had available and served it up to the conversing Spartans.

Six explained everything he possibly could to his commanding officer, from his arrival at the _Pillar of Autumn _and Emile's encounter with the Devil to his near deadly encounter in the killing fields just outside the ship breaking yards. Throughout the conversation he could tell his leader was hurting, as was apparent by the light amounts of blood that came up when he coughed. However, that was not what caught his eye. For the first time, he saw a smile on Carter's face.

"Well Six, looks like God's had his eyes on you from the beginning," Carter remarked with several gentle nods of the head. "But you did it. If Halsey's rhetoric holds up, you may have just saved humanity."

"I just wish I could have saved the others," Six replied, falling silent as he gaze went to the light amount of food before him.

Carter reached out and gripped Six's forearm. "You did everything you could, Six. We're Spartans, bred and trained to do the difficult, not the impossible."

Six nodded his head in false understanding, not quite seeing the truth in Carter's words. "You said you got lucky with the Pelican, but how did you really survive?"

Carter leaned back in his seat. "I said you were on your own back then, and I meant it. I whole-heartedly believed I would die in that thing, when a brief little idea popped into my head. For years, Kat was the brains of our team. For once, I thought I'd try my hand at it," he began to explain, a smirk on his face as he reminisced over his time with the woman. "As I circled around, I reached for my helmet and placed it on the Pelican's controls, allowing it to fire away at the Scarab while I attempted to jump out the back. It worked, but I wasn't nearly fast enough. I had gotten just two steps past the cockpit when the ship struck home," he continued to say, his eyes going wide as flashbacks of fire and shrapnel poured into his mind. "The explosion shot me into the rear hatch and out the back, sending me sprawling nearly fifty feet to the ground. My armor barely held up against the impact, and I pulled quite a few muscles in the process. I thought of trying to contact you, but with my helmet gone, I had no way of doing so."

"Sounds like a nightmare," Six commented.

"Not as bad as the one you experienced," Carter replied. "But, with all the injuries I had sustained, there didn't seem to be much of a silver lining. So I just… laid there. I managed to crawl up against a nearby rock formation and sat staring up at the sky, praying I'd eventually see a Halcyon-class cruiser lift off. When I finally saw it, I thought for certain you and Emile had made it to safety." He looked Six dead in the eyes. "I'm sorry I was wrong. I wish you two could have gotten away from this Hell."

"We will. All of us," Six tried to assure him, but there was no use.

"I'd like to agree with you, rifleman, but look around," Carter replied, gesturing to the tatters of a facility they sat in. "The _Pillar of Autumn _was the last UNSC ship on Reach's surface. All cities have been evacuated, and they used up every transport in order to make that happen. We're stranded, and help isn't coming," he said plainly, though he felt no joy in doing so. Simple, honest, and speaking with the facts in hand even when they held no hope, Carter was coming back around to his normal self.

"You're not entirely correct, Noble One," Sotiras interjected as he approached the pair. "All cities have been evacuated, and no ships remain on the surface. But, per Colonel Holland, an operational region known as the Reach Defense Coordination Zone was defined as of July 24, when you first encountered the enemy. It encompasses the Epsilon Eridani system, and while no UNSC ships may be on Reach, they have not entirely abandoned the system. At least, not yet to my knowledge," he explained. "The Covenant also struck the neighboring colony of Tribute. Assuming it hasn't fallen, there should be UNSC ships in system that can…" he tried to continue, but Carter rose from his seat in protest.

"That can do what?! The Covenant are glassing the planet, and have hundreds of ships in orbit! We have no way of communicating with anyone outside Reach's atmosphere, and even if we did, there is no way help would be getting through the blockade. And if, despite the odds, they did slip past the blockade, there would be no place for them to land. That's not mentioning the fact Covenant forces would be crawling over them in minutes. Then they'd somehow have to get back through the enemy blockade, which would by then be sending dozens of cruisers on an intercept course," Carter ranted, though there was a hint of reluctance in his voice. It was as if Sotiras attempting to come up with a solution enraged him; like there was no sense attempting to give hope in a hopeless situation.

"They wouldn't have to worry about the blockade if they made a jump into Reach's atmosphere," Sotiras argued.

"It would take a smart AI to pull off something like that, and few ships appear to have one," Carter replied.

"But it would solve our problem," Sotiras continued to press. "If they jumped into atmosphere, they wouldn't even need to land. We're a small enough crew that a few Pelicans could hoist us away to freedom. Then we'd make another slipspace jump in atmosphere and bang, we're home free. So what if a jump from in atmosphere messes with the air and stuff? Reach is dead anyways."

Carter cocked an eyebrow at the ODST, though he did not outright reject his explanation. "There's just one more problem: getting a message out. Visegrad was one of the few methods for communicating across system, but it's on the other side of the continent and would take over two weeks to repair even if we had a full crew to staff it," he stated.

"Well," Sotiras began to say, but he slowly found his gaze falling to the dust-covered ground. "I don't have a solution to that part yet."

"You have no plan if you can't figure out step one," Carter scolded the soldier.

"Surely you two can come up with something!" Sotiras snapped. "You're bloody Spartans! Solving difficult problems is your thing."

Carter simply shrugged. "If Kat was here, maybe. She was always the smartest of us, but…"

"Well maybe we should check on her then. After all, she's…" Sotiras began to interrupt, when he realized his mistake.

"What?" Carter's eyes burned red as Six stood in disbelief.

Sotiras took a step away from them. "Doctor Glasgow didn't want us saying anything. He figured you both would need time to…"

"Catherine is dead!" Carter roared, stepping toward the lesser man with malicious intent. He had been given too much hope in one day. This he could not bear. The soldier before him must have been mistaken, and because of that it was unacceptable for him to act as if he was right. Carter had watched a needle tear through Kat's skull, dropping her into Six's lap. They both saw the horrors of war take away his most beloved team member. Kat had been with him before all others. For an ODST to speak so knowledgably, as if he understood a thing about the incident, was beyond insulting.

"That's what you thought," Sotiras tried to say in as calm a tone he could. "That's the same thing Six thought when he saw Emile. Round from a needle rifle got her, right?"

"Yes," Carter answered, his anger beginning to subside as the false hope he had desperately been fighting against suddenly crept into his spirit.

"I'm no doctor, but our neurosurgeon, Doctor Harper, was the one who had a look at the body before placing a tag on her," Sotiras began to explain. "She apparently had a faint heartbeat. Her body was essentially shutting down, though not completely dead."

"Where is she?" Carter questioned.

Sotiras looked to the ground as if he had failed the doctors. "She's back down the hall where Serina took Emile to be operated on. Two doors from the operating room you'll find her," he answered. However, he looked back up to meet the Spartan's gaze a moment later. "Please, speak with Doctor Harper before you walk in and get all emotional. Like I told Six with Emile, there's nothing you can do for her. Shaking and yelling will not bring her back anymore than simply waiting will."

Carter said nothing, but merely limped past the ODST and into the hallway. Six followed closely behind. It was only then that he noticed the extensive injuries his leader has sustained. Though the doctors had fixed him up and stopped the internal bleeding, it was clear Carter was not back to a hundred percent yet.

The pair continued back to the hallway Emile had been rushed through, when they stopped two doors short of his. There were no lights, save the heart monitor and a single terminal that was being used to measure various functions of the woman's body.

"What are you two doing?" a voice came from behind the Spartans. They turned only to be greeted by a forty-eight year old man with a short, brown beard and shaggy hair of the same hue. The man was slightly overweight, but wore doctoral equipment that assured the soldiers he was one to be well-respected. "I was just about to check on her when you two prepared to barge in so rudely on her slumber," the man said.

"Why were we not told?" Carter asked, glaring at the man.

"Look at you!" the doctor stammered. "Blood red eyes ready to pop out of your skull. You two are seeing things you never thought possible, and I will not blame you for it. But, because of that fact, someone like yourselves is prone to act both emotionally and irrationally. That is why Doctor Glasgow thought it best to wait until you were settled in to inform you," he explained.

"I take it you're Doctor Harper," Six theorized.

"At your service," the man replied with a slight bow. "Now, if you would like, we can calmly step into your friend's room and see how she's doing it."

Carter nodded. "We would appreciate that very much."

With that, the group of men stepped through the oddly still functional sliding door and entered where Kat appeared to be resting eternally.

"How did she end up here?" Carter questioned, his eyes glued to the peaceful expression on the sleeping woman's face. She had been stripped of her armor and wore only the gown her doctor's had given her before performing surgery. Stitches still lined her scalp from where incisions were made.

"When Noble Team was picked up from New Alexandria, her body was returned to CASTLE Base for authentication and disposal, when I happened upon her. I have seen cases like hers before, though not quite as severe, where victims have been shot through the skull," Harper began to explain. "Upon removing her armor, it became clear to me she was not truly dead, though close. In fact, Glasgow had her formally declared as dead on the 23rd of August, though ONI would later mark her up as MIA. However, he did not notice the faint pulse as I did, at which point in time I immediately began surgery in an attempt to save her life. She was so close, I think if I had waited a moment longer she would have indeed passed." After a brief pause, he glanced down at the woman before continuing. "Eventually, I got her stable, and brought her along with our convoy when we abandoned CASTLE Base in the hopes of making it to Aszod for evacuation."

"But how'd she survive?" Carter continued to ask, unsure how a round to the skull could be anything other than fatal.

"Two reasons," Harper began to explain. "Firstly, that robotic appendage she acquired had been surgically wired into her brain so as to allow her better use of it rather than simply applying it to old nerves in her shoulder. That inorganic circuitry was enough to divert the needle, even if ever so slightly, while it travelled through her brain. There was admittedly damage done to both her right and left hemispheres, though not enough to truly kill her," he said to the Spartans. "The second reason is rather simple: the needle shoved through the center of her brain. The middle of the brain houses the corpus callosum, which is why she is still alive."

"Give it to me in English, doc," Carter replied.

Harper sighed in irritation before attempting to alternate his word choice in a better way. "The corpus callosum of the brain is simply a hub for electric signals to be passed between the left and right hemispheres of the brain. When a person goes through numerous seizures, doctors often cut this part of the brain to prevent the overstimulation of signals. This means she will have some degree of trouble registering different sorts of data with each side of her body depending on what side of the brain the signals are sent to, but the corpus callosum is not essential for life," he explained. "She is a very, very lucky person."

"Yet she's still in a coma," Six remarked out of disappointment.

"Indeed," Harper reluctantly admitted. "Seven days, and it does not appear she will be waking up anytime soon."

Carter's eyes were glued to the woman, his hands shaking from all the information he had just been fed. It was simply too much for him, and Six was about to lean in and help the struggling Spartan when he noticed something odd. Not odd in terms of human capacity, but he had never seen it done by a Spartan before. Six's eyes went wide as a strand of liquid fell from Carter's eye. "She's alive," the man finally whispered.

Gunshots were heard a moment later. Six whipped around toward the doorway as Carter attempted to snap out of his haze. Six only had three rounds left in his magnum, and his rifle had been lost to the battlefield. "I got three shots. What about you?" he said to Carter.

"I'm not armed," Carter regrettably answered.

Harper's expression was one of terror. "There are weapons in the armory, if you can reach it."

Carter turned to the man. "Stay with her," he gestured to the sleeping woman. "We'll be back soon."

Six led the way down the hallway back to the lobby, where they found the Marines with their rifles in hand.

"Sirs, good to see you," Corporal Lance greeted.

"What's going on?" Six asked. The family from earlier was nowhere to be seen.

"Zealots, sir," Lance answered grimly. Gage was standing alongside him, though the private was visibly more nervous than he was. "Two. They must have infiltrated from the lower access point. When they saw us and Sotiras, they veered off into the garage."

"If they escape, the whole Covenant will be on us," Six remarked.

"If they don't report back, the Covenant will be on us anyways," Carter countered. "But, we certainly can't let them tell our location. Better to keep the Covenant guessing."

"We need weapons," Six then said to the Marines.

Lance nodded in response before turning to lead them back toward the armory. "Right this way, Spartans."

As the group walked, Gage felt it pertinent to further explain the situation. "Sotiras has them cornered in the garage, but if they make a move to escape, he won't stand a chance."

"Then I suggest you get down there and help him," Carter replied. At this, Gage slapped a fresh magazine into his MA37 assault rifle and turned to head down the facility's stairwell.

"I'll join the others in a minute. There's something I want to show you first," Lance said to the Spartans as they entered the armory. "This place being an ONI facility and all, it used to house quite a few Spartan-based armaments." He then made his way to the left side of the room, where a small button sat against a barren wall of which had its paint falling off. After a push of the button, the wall folded upwards to reveal a shelf of Mjolnir-compatible armor fittings.

Six was pleased when he found a Mark V[B] helmet on the wall, and gladly pulled it from the shelf before placing it atop his head. Lights flashed to life on his visor, until his HUD read green across the board. With his armor complete, shields finally came back online.

Carter himself was still shocked to see the equipment on the wall, and stepped to the very item that had kept his emotions hidden behind a mask of duty-bound focus. He took the item from its place on the shelf, and brushed a finger across its visor before looking back to Six.

"How do I look?" Six asked.

"Like your true self, Noble," Carter replied with a grin before placing the Commando helmet over his head. "As do I."

#

_August 30, 2552 24:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Noble Six and Corporal Lance followed Noble One down the stairwell, weapons raised as they came to the lower level of the facility. Carter pointed his DMR to the entrance, and upon stepping past its threshold, tilted his head in either direction before proceeding to the garage which was a sharp left from SHIELD Base's secret entrance, now not so secret as was made apparent by the Zealots.

There they found Sotiras and Gage waiting in crouched position by the entrance to the garage. "About time you all showed up," Sotiras remarked, easily noticing the newly requisitioned helmets the Spartans were wearing. "You two feel complete yet?"

"Every bit the Spartan," Six answered with a nod of the head.

"Cut the chatter everyone," Carter stated. "I'll take point. I want Six at my side. The rest of you fill in after us," he ordered before stepping in front of the entrance. The garage was pitch black. "Do we know what weapons they're carrying?"

"Energy swords and plasma rifles," Sotiras answered.

"Great," Carter rolled his eyes beneath his helmet as he peered into the room. With no movement in sight, he finally stepped inside. Six was on his flank with a fully loaded assault rifle in his hands. Upon entering the room, Carter gave the slightest of looks back at his teammate. "Six, get the lights."

Six reached over to where the switch was, and flipped it on. As he looked back in Carter's direction, an Elite peered around one of the parked Warthogs and opened fire.

"Dead ahead!" Carter shouted, firing into the Zealot's armor with his DMR. Three rounds flickered across its shields and shattered them, forcing the Elite to lower its stance and seek cover behind the Warthog once more.

"I got him," Lance said as he moved to flank around the vehicle when the second Elite lunged toward him from the corner of the room. He was sent crashing against the ground when the Zealot suddenly gripped him by the throat. The Zealot's energy sword was in hand, ready to tear through Lance when bullets suddenly splashed against its shields.

"Stay down, Corporal," Six urged as he stepped to the Elite. After firing half a clip into the Sangheili, its shields finally cracked apart. In a desperate move to end him, the Zealot charged Six with its sword outstretched. Six swiftly sidestepped, sending a fist into the Zealot's abdomen and forcing it a step backwards before firing the last of his magazine into its head. With one target down, Six turned back to their remaining adversary only to realize it had bypassed the others and was standing atop the Warthog in front of him. The Elite crashed down on top of him, and Six was barely able to keep the Elite's energy sword from piercing his heart. He fought desperately against the superior strength of the creature, when it was finally tackled to the ground moments later. Yet it was not Carter who had saved his life.

In an instance of pure rage, Sotiras sent his knife through the Zealot's throat, ending its life in a heartbeat. "These monsters aren't taking another Spartan from us," he growled as he wiped the blood from his armor and stood.

Six then looked over to see Carter on the ground with Gage attempting to help get him back on his feet. "You alright, boss?"

"Yeah," Carter huffed. "Just, not at a hundred percent. Docs patched me up as best they could, but there is some tendon damage that'll be permanent."

"At least we made it through that ordeal without any casualties," Sotiras remarked. We'll call it the Battle of SHIELD Base, the last UNSC victory on Reach."

"The real battle will come when Covenant cruisers arrive to glass us," Carter replied in an attempt to kill the man's optimism. "We may have up to forty-eight hours before the enemy sends search parties out, but they will eventually come."

"All the more reason we need to get out of here as soon as possible," Sotiras stated. "Whatever the chances are, we need to find a way off this planet, or die trying. That's the situation we've been given."

Six simply shook his head. "Without Kat, I'm not sure any of us are smart enough to come up with a plan creative enough to work."

As the group continued talking, another entered the garage. The soldiers turned to see Doctor Harper standing before them. "Spartans, Doctor Glasgow has finished surgery on Emile. He wants to speak with both of you immediately."


	3. Chapter 3: The Killing Field

_August 30, 2552 25:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

As the others inside SHIELD Base finally prepared to settle in for the night, with Sotiras choosing to stay up and guard the facility's entrance, the pair of Spartans journeyed to the lobby where they found Doctor Glasgow waiting for them.

Standing six feet in height, aged fifty-five, the doctor had a thick gray goatee with sharp, scraggly hair directed to the right side of his head. He wore a thick pair of glasses, and near golden eyes stared out at the pair of super soldiers before him. "It's good to finally meet you both, Spartans."

"So you're the one who made all of this possible?" Six said.

"In a matter of speaking, yes," Glasgow answered. "I worked as an intern for ONI within SHIELD Base from 2519 to 2522, when the facility was finally shut down in favor of SWORD Base to the far northeast. When Reach was in the process of falling, my team of doctors was busy attending to those in CASTLE Base. Before its eventual assault and destruction, we abandoned the base and made for the Aszod ship breaking yards hoping to find transportation off world. We arrived to nothing, and with Covenant forward scouts already at the site, I decided it would be best for us to retreat here. While the original entrance could not be found, I knew of the facility's lower levels which included a garage and exit tube. We entered through the exit tube and set up camp," he explained. "We had little communication technology available to us, but it was enough to keep in touch with chatter from nearby ships. When the _Pillar of Autumn _set down, we tried with everything in us to get there in time. However, Doctor Harper refused to leave the other Spartan behind, and without more military personnel, we simply could not reach the ship in time."

"You've gotten everyone this far. Any ideas what to do next?" Carter asked.

Glasgow simply shook his head. "My knowledge as a convenient intern is all that has saved us for now. With nearly every option depleted, I am afraid I do not have a solution for our current predicament, aside from the recommendation we vacate before the Covenant finds us here. There is only one way into this facility, and if the Covenant finds us, we'll be trapped. We could fight, sure, but they will simply send lances backed upon lances to overwhelm and break us."

"Well that's just great," Carter remarked sarcastically.

"How's Emile?" Six abruptly asked, changing the subject.

Glasgow paused, then sighed. He slowly removed the pair of glasses from his face and attempted to clean them with his lab coat, which by now had been drenched in blood, then returned them to his face. "The procedure was a tough one more me, but he'll live. I'd give him two weeks to full recovery."

"Two weeks?! Doc, we may not have two days," Carter replied.

"I understand that!" Glasgow snapped. "But these are the facts I give you. Now, it's perfectly plausible that if, by his own volition, he decides to push the limits of his weakened state, he may be able to recover faster. Regardless, two weeks is my professional estimation."

Carter sighed. "This place is going to be our tome."

"Maybe," Glasgow blatantly admitted. "And yet, maybe not. If we survived this long, it would not be illogical to assume others have also survived up to this point. And if gunfire can be heard, then that is enough to signal others are still fighting. We have wounded, yes, but we've made a trek across the continent once before. We can do it again if need be," Glasgow explained. "Now, why don't the both of you get some rest. I have a feeling tomorrow's going to be a very busy day." With that, he took his leave of the pair and journeyed to his quarters down the hallway which lead to the armory, as was the hallway where everyone's rooms were.

"At least Emile's alive," Six said to Carter, trying to add hope to their situation.

"Yes, but he'll never be the same person he once was. None of us will, not entirely anyways," Carter replied. He then took Six by the shoulder. "Get some rest, Noble. I'll stay up and keep watch with the ODST."

"With all due respect, you need rest just as much as I do," Six stated. "Sotiras can handle himself, as he proved this evening."

Carter nodded in agreement, remembering it was not he who saved Six's life, but an ODST. "Always so convincing, huh? Alright, you win," he said before retiring to one of the empty rooms.

Six remained in the hallway a minute longer, pondering the man's words. "So was Kat."

#

_September 1, 2552 8:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

It had been nearly a month since Noble Six had achieved such good rest. He awoke with his body aching slightly, but for the most part was recovered from the prior day's events. As he reapplied his helmet, he stepped into the hallway and heard talk coming from the cafeteria. He made his way to the room and found everyone attempting to enjoy a peaceful morning together. The doctors fixed food while Nurse Serina chatted with John and Lisa. However, there was another amongst the group. As Six began to approach those talking at the nearby table, something nudged against his hip. He looked down to see a young girl around the age of ten hugging his leg. She had golden hair falling to her shoulders, with deep blue eyes that looked up to meet Six's gaze. She seemed oddly happy.

"Sweetie, please don't bother the nice man," John said as he approached to scoop up his daughter.

"It's fine," Six replied calmly. "I've just… well, I can't say I'm very accustomed to children in my line of work."

"I understand," John remarked. "They can be quite the handful, and yet be the greatest joy of your life all at the same time." With that, he urged his daughter back to their seat at the nearby table.

A laugh from over Six's shoulder caused him to turn. "Quite the reaction to a kid, Six," Carter chuckled.

"She run up on you too?"

Carter shook his head. "Not quite like that, no."

"You sure you wouldn't rather sit down with the others?" Six asked, taking note of how Carter was leaning up against the cafeteria's far wall.

Carter tilted his gaze away from Six. "It's just.."

"Different," Six finished.

"Sure, that's one way of putting it," Carter said as he pushed off the wall and stepped toward his comrade. "I mean, what am I supposed to say to them? How can I relate to a people I don't even know? I've spent the better part of a decade fighting insurrection and Covenant forces. They couldn't possibly stomach the things I've seen, and I couldn't possibly understand the things they've experienced," he explained with a hint of disappointment.

Six stood in bewilderment at the man's honest words. "We really are that far gone, huh?"

"Nothing more than machines, I guess," Carter shrugged.

"Yet I don't want to die here. Do you?" Six replied.

Carter shook his head.

"Then maybe we're not entirely gone. Not yet, at least," Six stated. He then looked back to the others and noticed the doctors had finally come to join them. "Where are the Marines?" he eventually asked.

"They went out on a scouting expedition," Carter explained. "We need to know how close the Covenant are operating to us."

"And Sotiras?"

"Sleeping. He had a long night, remember?" Carter said.

"Right."

"Spartans," came Glasgow's voice from the nearby table. "Won't you join us?"

"I think we're alright, thank you," Carter replied with a friendly wave in the others' direction.

"Awe, imagine that. The war machines are shy," Glasgow said with a chuckle. "Come now, I'm sure you both have some riveting stories to tell us about your campaigns amongst the stars."

For once, Carter looked to Six for direction. "Wouldn't hurt to try the peaceful life," Six expressed before moving to sit with the others. He picked his spot beside John's daughter, who seemed ecstatic to have him where he was.

"So Spartan Carter, tell us, what was the most interesting thing you saw on your numerous expeditions?" Glasgow immediately drummed up conversation.

At a loss for words, the Spartan looked back on his operations. "Well, there was one time my team was stationed briefly in the Sol System."

"Go on," Glasgow inquired, his eyes wide with interest.

"We were on one of the orbital stations above Ganymede when we saw the sun peek around its surface. It was brighter than anything I'd ever seen, and surely hotter than any plasma the Covenant could dish out. Standing there alongside Catherine and the others in my team, I think it really opened my eyes to what we were fighting for. There's something special about seeing worlds alive and breathing from space," he said.

"Sol System," John repeated from across the table. "Sure would like to see it someday. We've lived on Reach all our lives."

It was then the little girl looked up at Six. "What about you, mister?"

"Do I have any stories?" Six repeated, uncertain how to respond. For years, his sole purpose was to end insurgencies with violence. He would go dark for years on end in order to accomplish his tasks, and there was no joy to be had in it. Nothing but silent kills and bloodshed. The sort of tale a ten-year-old certainly could not be allowed to hear if she wished to have a normal childhood. "Unfortunately, none really stick out to me."

As sad look came across the girl's face as she turned back to her father.

At this, Six chose to speak up. "However, I can tell you one of the happiest moments of my life if you'd like."

The girl immediately perked up.

"The day I was assigned my first permanent team," he said, his gaze moving to Carter. "For years I had been alone. Never had anyone to call family. When I met them, I finally knew what the word meant. It wasn't about who your father and mother were. It was about those who cared for you the most." In the back of his mind, he thought of what else family did. Family died so others could live.

Carter nodded his head in response, though it was impossible to see his true expression beneath his helmet.

"Well said, Spartan," Glasgow lifted his cup of water in approval.

The group was about to continue conversation when Lance and Gage entered in a hurry. "Pardon the interruption, but we have news," Lance spoke up.

"Speak, Marine," Carter replied.

"On our patrol we spotted a Pelican. It got shot down not too far from here," Lance said.

"By not too far from here, you mean the killing fields," Glasgow cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes sir, but there could be survivors," Lance argued. "We've been saving lives thus far. I can't imagine us stopping now."

Glasgow mulled over their options before responding. "If those people were able to commandeer a Pelican, it wouldn't hurt to ask where they found it," he eventually said. He then looked to the Spartans. "If you two are up for it, I would like you both to go check the crash site. Out of us all, you two have the best chances of returning in one piece."

"I'll go too," a voice came from behind the Marines. Sotiras was standing before the group, suited up for combat.

Six nodded to the man as he stood. "Let's get those survivors out of there."

#

_September 1, 2552 11:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

It took longer than expected to reach their destination. Avoiding Covenant kill squads was a chore to be dealt with, and without the use of vehicles, hoofing the trip left the three soldiers eager to get off their feet.

By the time they reached a small hill overlooking the Pelican, they came to find it was the most pleasant nightmare they had ever witnessed. While the vessel was smoking, and its wings were in shambles, the majority of the cabin was intact. However, the soldiers took note of three civilian corpses lying amongst the wreckage. All appeared to have been sent flying out the Pelican's rear hatch during the crash, except for a fourth being vivisected by a curious Brute. A Chieftain stood watching the carnage as its warriors surged toward the Pelican's interior, with ballistic fire reaching out to take their lives.

"Looks like we've got a confirmation on survivors," Sotiras reported.

"The difficulty's going to be getting them out of there, and without transport," Carter remarked, giving Sotiras a brief glare in the process.

"I told you, the Warthogs were too big and too loud for this sort of operation. They should not be used unless we want to flag the whole of the Covenant," Sotiras snapped.

"Let's just focus on what we have to use," Six interjected. He then pointed to the sniper on Sotiras's back. "Give us suppressing fire while we move in and secure the others," he instructed. Then, with an exchange of nods between him and Carter, the pair advanced down the slope they stood upon and entered the firefight below.

The two Spartans sprinted through the wreckage mostly unheard due to the concentration of gunfire near the Pelican's innards. It was not until they were mere meters from a Brute that their presence was learned. Carter slid beneath the beast with a sweep of its legs, which Six followed up by plunging a knife through the creature's skull. After their initial kill, two others further up the rubble turned to face them. Spikers raised, they opened fire with the hopes of quickly shredding the Spartans' shields.

Taking cover behind husks of the Pelican's wings, the Spartans exchanged glances. "Think you can shoot off their armor?" Six asked his leader.

"I can still land a clean shot, if that's what you're implying," Carter said in response before whipping out from behind cover with his DMR raised. He quickly aimed down his sight and fired off three consecutive rounds, blowing the first Brute's helm clean off. As it staggered backwards, Six rolled out and away from his position. Once back to his feet, he fired off his assault rifle and watched the confirming splatter of blood from the Brute as its body was flung backwards from the impacts. The second attempted to fire on Six when Carter knocking its leg out from under it. Six was quick to pull a grenade from his hip and tossed it toward the Brute a split second later. The pair watched its body go up in smoke.

By then, they had the Chieftain's attention.

#

_September 1, 2552 11:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Doctor Glasgow was moving down the hallway to check on his patient when Harper abruptly stopped him. "What seems to be the problem, doctor?" he asked as calmly as possible.

An expression of concern was on Harper's face. "I don't know how this could have happened," he began to say. Behind him was Nurse Serina who appeared rather confused by their situation.

Before Harper could continue, however, the Marines rounded the corner to speak with them. "Sirs, we were unaware you had not given the other a proper discharge," Lance apologized.

"Discharge?" Glasgow questioned, only more perplexed by the situation.

"The Mongoose it gone," Gage blurted out.

"More importantly," Doctor Harper spoke up. "The Spartan is gone!"

#

_September 1, 2552 11:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Carter and Six took off in opposite directions, firing on the Chieftain as they attempted to keep it from the Pelican's occupants. Bullets pinged off the Brute's shields as it became more and more agitated with each shot. Eventually, however, the Chieftain had made up its mind on a target. Carter was the slower of the pair, and the Chieftain swung as close to the him as it could. Though not hit by the gravity hammer itself, the blast was enough to send Carter flying backwards through the smoke-filled air. Seeing an opportunity, Six unveiled his knife once more and aimed to leap upon the Chieftain's back and score a hit to the side of its neck. However, by the time he had reached the Brute, it was already facing him. Six sidestepped a blow from the gravity hammer, only to be staggered further away by the power generated from its gravity field. He raised his rifle to fire when another Brute struck him from the side.

Six was sent sprawling upon the ground, his vision experiencing turmoil as he attempted to recover from the half ton creature. As he rose to his knees, a foot from the Brute shoved against his chest. He was sent crumbling to the ground once again. When he attempted to lift his rifle, the Brute merely stepped on the weapon. However, it was not fast enough to stop Six's knife from plunging into its right knee. The Brute flinched, roaring in a fury as it pointed its spiker to Six's helmet.

Then, something struck the back of the Brute's left leg. It fell to its knees from the pressure as a being crawled sluggishly along its back. When it had climbed high enough, Six watched a curved kukri knife tear into the side of the Brute's throat. He knew who it was before the Brute's body even hit the ground.

"Miss me, Six?"

"You're scary, you know that?" Six remarked as he took the man's hand. "It's good to have you back, Emile."

"It'll take more than an energy sword to put me down," Emile replied, though he was slightly bent over from internal pain.

"How'd you get here?" Six questioned.

"Mongoose. Those Marines didn't ask many questions," Emile answered.

"I wonder why," Six replied, barely stifling a chuckle as he looked at Emile's carved helmet. However, before their chat could continue, a groan from Carter forced them to turn.

Their leader was laying on the ground, his gaze on the Chieftain standing over him. The Brute had managed to squeeze between him and the Pelican, but when he attempted to intervene, the beast turned on him and sent him crashing against the ground. Several civilians watched in horror as the Chieftain raised its hammer to the Spartan, ready to split his skull open. Six raced to save his commander as Emile stumbled in desperation to keep up. The Chieftain simply snarled in ravenous sadism, when a sniper round tore open its right shoulder. It staggered back, closer to the Pelican, when it was suddenly grabbed by the back of its neck.

The Spartans watched as a hulking figure pulled the creature into the Pelican, and with one thrust of his fist against the Chieftain's skull, the beast was no more. Upon turning back to those before him, he was almost unrecognizable. The man wore armor coated in dust and grime, making it appear more gray and rugged than anything else. Part of his chest plate closer to his left shoulder was nothing more than brittle tatters of once durable armor. Even his helmet had apparent damage, though not enough to crack it open. The figure towered over the others at seven feet and four inches in height.

"No bloody way," Emile muttered.

The man removed his Grenadier helmet at the sight of the others, allowing them to gaze up at a bloody, scarred beast of a man. He wore a graying thick brown beard, and his brown eyes held enough sympathy for the others to know he was not wholly different from the last time they laid eyes on him. "How are all of you still standing?"

"We could ask you the same thing, Jorge," Carter replied, still laying on the ground in shock.

"You know these Spartans?" a young man inside the Pelican asked.

"Old friends of mine," Jorge said, a grin finally appearing on his face.

"How?" was all Six could utter.

"Let's just say I was extremely lucky," Jorge replied. "Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it." The roaring engines of Phantoms fast approaching forced him to reach for his helmet. "I can try to explain more later, but right now, we need to get these people out of here."

"Understood," Six replied as he helped Carter to his feet. He then put a finger to the side of his helmet. "Sotiras, we're bringing four survivors back to SHIELD."

As Brutes landed around the Pelican, the four Spartans took up positions around the armed civilians.

"Guess it's a regular family reunion," Emile remarked, shotgun in hand.

"Not until Kat and Jun are standing by our side," Carter replied.

"Kat's…" Emile began to say when the commander cut him off.

"Not dead. If you'd paid more attention when you haphazardly abandoned the base, you would've seen her on life support," Carter interrupted.

"What happened to Kat?" Jorge asked.

"More like what happened to all of us," Emile corrected.

"It's a long story, Noble Five," Six replied as he loaded a fresh magazine into his assault rifle.

"Can't wait to hear it when we get out of this," Jorge said.

With that, the four Spartans raised their weapons to the enemy.

#

_September 1, 2552 13:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

"It's been quite a few hours," John remarked as his family sat with him in the lobby.

"I'm sure they're fine," Glasgow replied with a smile. Though, as soon as he turned from the family, his smile faded. It had been nearly five hours since the others had departed. He wondered if they should have taken a Warthog, but that would have been too much of a risk. Even if they had found survivors, returning them to the base without being followed by hordes of Covenant forces would be difficult. As his mind pondered the situation, Corporal Lance called up to the others from the stairwell with good news.

"They're back!" Lance shouted. "And they brought company."

Glasgow clambered down the stairwell to find Carter, Six, Sotiras, and the troublemaker who had taken off without so much as leaving a note behind. As Emile returned the Mongoose to the garage, Glasgow noticed an injured man in the backseat.

"Doc, the man's name is Sam," Carter spoke up.

"He's my son," another civilian said. The man was in his forties, had a blonde beard and thin glasses over his hazel eyes. "He took a round from a spiker. Please. You have to help him," the man pleaded.

"I'll see what I can do," Glasgow replied with a faint smile, though worry festered beneath the surface. So many resources had been spent to keep the super soldiers alive that medical supplies were beginning to run low. None of this would he dare say to a suffering family who had managed to survive the glassing of half a planet, though. With that, he called for Nurse Serina and the pair helped Sam out of his seat on the Mongoose. The young man appeared to be in his early twenties with short, sandy blond hair and green eyes.

Trailing behind the others was a woman with short, red hair and a lean face who stood close to six feet in height. Her blood-red eyes painted her as a strange being to the others, and she would not argue their assumptions under the circumstances. She was quiet mostly, though she seemed to have every intent on staying close to Jorge throughout the group's verbal exchanges.

"Who are these people?" Lance eventually asked.

It was then that Jorge spoke up. "The young man's Sam, with his father being Douglas, and this lovely woman is Isabella."

"And…" Gage added, hoping the largest person in the room would introduce himself.

"That's Jorge," Six finally answered with a nudge against the Spartan-II's arm.

"How'd you all make it out of there?" Lance asked. "Just seems like a large number of you, ergo easy for Covenant dropships to zero in on."

"We kept the Brutes distracted while Sergeant Sotiras slipped away with the others," Carter explained.

"Wow," Gage simply remarked. "I bet four Spartans really gave them something to chew on."

"You best believe it did," Emile interjected as he brushed past the Marines on his way to the stairwell.

Glasgow suddenly turned to Emile. "Don't think I've forgotten about you, mister. I'd like to know just what sort of crazy rewiring in your brain cells made you think rushing out to the battlefield while recovering from an energy sword to the chest was a good idea!"

"That's the thing about Emile," Carter began to say. "If he can stand, he'll do whatever he feels needs to be done."

Emile nodded his head, speechless at the compliment.

"If everyone's done loitering around the entrance, I say we get settled in for the remainder of the day," Sotiras said to the group, gesturing to the stairwell before them.

As the group ascended the stairs to the main floor, Six recommended the members of Noble Team sit down and talk. Two of the three agreed. Carter politely left the others to their business, as he had some of his own he needed to deal with.

The Spartans convened in the cafeteria, where Six was the first to tell his story. Actually, he told everyone's story from his perspective, from seeing one member of Noble Team after another fall before him.

"Must've been rough watching all of us seemingly go down," Jorge said. "Looks like we just couldn't keep up with the lone wolf, huh?" he laughed.

"I just got a little too cocky for my own good," Emile remarked. "Ironic, a person who loves sharp things nearly meeting his demise at the end of one."

"At least you killed the creature who almost put you down," Jorge replied.

"And what's that to you? A Spartan who took two ships' worth of crew members down with him?" Emile responded with a degree of respect for the man's kill count. "Speaking of which, it's about time you give us the details of how you survived the biggest explosion I've ever seen in my life."

"I wish it was a heroic tale," Jorge smirked, though the expression of satisfaction was quick to fade. "In all reality, it was simply an accident."

"You told me the timer was fried," Six interrupted, staring blankly at the man.

"It was. Or, it sort of was. I couldn't get it to work," Jorge admitted. "I waited give or take seven seconds after you departed before hitting the manual controls. Nothing happened. All the suspense of preparing to fade into oblivion crumbled a I realized I'd have to prepare myself all over again. Well, by the second time, I heard the drive beeping. It was more than the timer merely being fried; the systems were twisted or something. That being said, I wasn't about to leave without a job done," he explained with a discernable tone of conviction. "I was prepared to wait until the drive finally ruptured, when I saw something out the corner of my eye. It was a Minor stumbling to its feet, a plasma grenade in its hand. I raised my weapon to fire when the bugger got a solid stick on my armor, close to my left shoulder."

"A sticky's usually fatal," Six commented.

"Whatever the case, my armor held," Jorge stated. "The real kicker is I was standing too close to the hangar's outside shielding when it happened. The blast knocked me out of the corvette and just like that, I thought I made the biggest blunder of my life. On top of all that, my helmet was cracked. I believed I was going to suffocate in space, but my oxygen never quite ran dry. Turns out the helmet wasn't broken so much as bent."

"Lucky you," Emile sneered.

"Seems we've all been rather lucky," Jorge continued to said. "About the time I realized I would live was the moment the slipspace drive fired. The ships were devoured before my eyes, yet the blast seemed to propel me further away from it instead of sucking me in."

"Would've thought I'd see you," Six said.

"In that mess?" Jorge replied with a light chuckle. "With all that debris? I know I certainly couldn't see you."

"Fair enough," Six conceded.

"That being said, due to my proximity near the blast, it must have altered my trajectory more so than yours," Jorge said. "Where'd you end up landing, Six?"

"Near New Alexandria."

"Further than I thought," Jorge remarked with wide eyes. "I touched down in Palhaza."

"Your home," Emile added.

Jorge fell silent for a moment as he nodded his head. Then, he continued, "Seeing it one last time was… a gift as much as a curse. I watched it razed to the ground as Covenant poured stream after stream of plasma on top of it. There were more of us when we fled."

"Those people were from Palhaza?" Six inquired.

"The three still alive, yes," Jorge answered. "We picked up others as we went along. Used transport hogs early on. For weeks I fought the enemy as we moved to Aszod. It was one of the few ship breaking yards I could think of away from the cities, as they were all being glassed."

"Where'd you get the Pelican?" Six asked.

"Near one of the orbital defense generators," he answered. "The garrison there wasn't too thrilled to lose an asset, but I was determined to get those people off Reach."

"Sorry it didn't quite pan out," Six said.

Jorge simply nodded his head, his eyes pointed down at the table. "Well, nothing much to be done about it now." However, after a moment he looked back up at the others. "Hey, where's Jun?"

"Left with Halsey two days ago for CASTLE Base," Six answered.

"Place must've been the most fortified thing left on Reach. I doubt the Covies got him," Emile said.

"We've all survived worse, it seems," Jorge said. "Hopefully he made it out."

At this, Emile laughed. "Probably sipping down his favorite wine aboard a cruiser wondering when the rest of us are going to catch up." He then leaned forward as if in pain. "Never did give that guy much credit. He really was a crack shot with that rifle of his."

"We'll see him again," Six tried to say.

"Hate to burst your bubble, but I don't see any way we're getting off this rock," Emile shot down Six's optimism.

"Then maybe not in this life," Six relinquished. "But the next? Eventually we'll all be in the ground, whether that occurs in the next few hours or next few years."

"Well said, Six," Jorge complimented the Spartan.

With that, the group was at a loss for words. The three men looked to one another with a hidden degree of satisfaction in seeing each other raised from the grave, when Six finally stood up. "I think I'll check up on the commander, if you two don't mind."

"Go crazy, Six," Emile replied, waving the man off.

#

_September 1, 2552 14:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Six stood outside the door to Kat's room, unsure if he would be well received. He saw Carter nearly asleep sitting beside the unconscious woman, his hand around hers. Eventually he got up the courage to enter. "Sir?"

Carter immediately looked up, his eyes somewhat glazed from restlessness. "Six, what is it?"

"You doing alright?"

"Just…" Carter began to say. "My injuries from the prior day are starting to affect me. I know I got sleep, but it certainly doesn't feel like it."

"You want more than anything for her to wake up, don't you?" Six theorized.

"You know me too well," Carter remarked. "It's just different with her. We were the first to be assigned to Noble Team. We were the only to survive as its original members, too. She just… she always seemed to know how to keep me dialed in. After all those campaigns together, I guess I developed a false reality about her. I saw other Spartans die, yet I thought she was different. I guess I felt, no matter the odds, we would come out alive. That didn't happen in New Alexandria."

"Except it did," Six replied. "She's not dead."

"Not yet," Carter corrected. "And I intend to be here until she either wakes or…"

"She'll wake," Six interrupted.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Six," Carter admitted without any pessimistic words following. As he laid his forehead to rest against Kat's bed, Six took it as a sign for him to take his leave of the situation.

Six left the pair to themselves as he stepped out into the hall. As he made his way back to the cafeteria, he happened to bump into John by accident. "Excuse me," he said as he passed by.

"No problem, sir. Sorry I didn't notice you there," John apologized.

Six was about to continue on his way when he abruptly stopped. "Sir, what's your daughter's name?"

"Kelly, why?" John replied, turning back to the Spartan.

"She just seems so infatuated by me. Any reason that may be?" Six asked.

"Oh, that," John said with a sigh. "My wife took a business trip to the planet Fumirole back in April. She took our daughter along." Six knew the tale all too well, but let the man continue. "They were there when the Covenant attacked, and were trying to evacuate when an Elite blocked their path," he continued to say, though his voice became weak and shaky. "It nearly… well, a Spartan wearing armor very similar to your own stepped in before any harm could come to them."

"I see," Six uttered. "The Spartan's name was Thom. I was his replacement for Noble Team when he gave his life during the battle."

"Ah," John replied with a saddened heart. "Well, I wouldn't tell my daughter that. Most her drawings seem to depict that great hero. Would hate to break her already frail spirit."

"I'd never dream of saddening that girl's heart," Six stated.

A smile peeked out on John's face. "Thank you."

#

_September 1, 2552 15:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Carter refused to move from his position at Kat's side. As his eyes shut, he felt liquid forming at their seams. "I'm sorry, Catherine," was the one phrase he repeated over and over again. "I failed you like I failed the others. Like I failed Thom. Again and again I allowed my team members to break. I should have been the one every time to make those sacrifices. Not Thom, not Jorge, not Emile, not you."

He briefly glanced up at her heart monitor, and once he confirmed it was still giving off a steady pulse, he continued to preach. "You always had my back, Kat. That's what made you so special. You never gave up on me, and I refuse to give up on you." Then. He noticed the pulses on the heart monitor begin to drop. "No…"

The beats were slower, more frantic. The rhythm began to dissipate, and Carter's eyes went wide as his heart nearly stopped. "Kat, please," he muttered. "Stay with me, Kat." The beats continued to behave erratically, and he noticed her head tilt over to the opposite side of the bed. Her breathing slowed. "Catherine, don't leave me," he begged, his body trembling as tears fell down his face.

Then, the heart monitor suddenly beeped. Carter saw the pulses as the woman's body jerked. A moment later, he watched her eyes open.


	4. Chapter 4: A Plan At Last

_September 1, 2552 15:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Six, Emile, and Jorge burst through the doors to the Spartan's room, their eyes wide as they saw a miracle come to life before them. Carter sat motionless next to the woman's bed, afraid the slightest of motions would cause her to fall back into a state of unconsciousness. Then, the woman turned to him.

"Commander?" she said, her eyes sifting through the fog of days without seeing a thing. "How, am I…"

"You're alive, Kat," Carter stated. "That's all that matters."

"I feel…" Kat began to say as she slowly sat up.

"Weird?" Emile spoke up. "Days in a coma will do that to you."

"No, it's more than that," Kat replied, attempting to move her mechanical arm in the process. It moved, though with more difficulty than before. "Whatever hit me must have jarred my tech."

By then the doctors had arrived. "The needle round struck through your corpus callosum, ma'am," Harper stated. "While you should be mostly functional, the two hemispheres of your brain can no longer communicate with one another."

"Great," Kat said with a roll of the eyes. She above all others knew the repercussions the needle round would have on her bodily state.

"Is she good to move, Harper?" Carter asked the doctor.

"Yes. All remnants of the needle were plucked out. I just recommend she move slowly. This sort of damage will not have a fast recovery," Harper explained.

"Hear that, Kat?" Carter said the woman. "You're gonna be just fine."

"I heard," Kat nodded with a faint smile.

"We'll give you some time to yourselves," Glasgow spoke up amongst the group. With that, he led the others out of the room except for Carter.

The two Spartans were left alone. Time froze around them as Carter watched life return to Kat's face. The two locked eyes briefly, before Kat suddenly broke eye contact. "How long was I out?" she asked.

"Going on eight days," Carter said. Noticing his posture, he abruptly rose from his position beside Kat's bed. "The docs were the ones who brought you here, to SHIELD Base. We've all been hiding out for at least a day now."

"What's the situation of the planet?" Kat asked.

"Lost," Carter reluctantly answered. "We're some of the few remaining. Covenant forces are all across the planet, and from the looks of it, there's no way off."

"Unless we get a signal out," Kat said.

"Which is why we're glad to have you back," Carter replied with a smirk. "If anyone here can figure out a plan for getting us off Reach, it's you."

"I appreciate your confidence, Commander," Kat admitted. "But, I still don't feel right." She leaned forward, analyzing the motion of her hands as she attempted to find any gaps in her mental processes.

"I understand," Carter said, coming to rest against the wall as he pondered his emotions. His gaze was away from the woman, looking to the floor beyond the bed. "When that round cleared your head, I thought that was it. The closest person to me on Noble Team was dead."

Kat's eyes went to the man, a slight twitching on her lip. "I never saw it."

"Neither did we," Carter stated. "But we should've. I should've."

"Not everything is your responsibility, Carter," Kat spoke up. "You blame yourself for everything, but it's not all your fault. Thom was not your fault. Jorge was not your fault. I was not your fault."

Carter's eyes went to hers.

"Besides, I doubt I'd be alive if you hadn't carried me out of that bunker," Kat stated confidently.

"How'd you know?" Carter questioned.

"Educated guess," Kat replied with a smile on her face. "I'm grateful, Commander."

Carter nodded his head, a smile on his helmetless face as he looked to the woman with a feeling of genuine joy. However, the emotion quickly faded as he coughed into his fist. "I'll uh, give you some time to recuperate." With that, he left Kat to herself.

#

_September 1, 2552 17:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Doctor Glasgow and the soldiers sat in the cafeteria, patiently awaiting the commencement of their meeting. Kat had been given time to come back to reality, but the fact was they were in a desperate situation. Emile was fighting with everything he had to recover in one day rather than two weeks, and while Glasgow sternly recommended against it, he did little more to deter the Spartan as they were pressed for time as was. Carter had gone back into the Kat's room once more, and returned thirty minutes earlier to inform the others Kat seemed to have a plan. The beginnings of one, at least.

"I'll be rather impressed if that woman comes up with something we haven't," Emile remarked with a scoff.

"I suggest we wait to find out," Jorge replied with a gentle shove against Noble Four to show displeasure in his negative assumptions.

"Guys, remember she's been through a lot," Six spoke up. "We'll just need to be patient with the situation. One way or another, we're coming up with a solution here."

A minute later, Kat entered the room assisted by Carter. She walked mostly by herself, but stumbled on occasion. When she did, the team's commander was there to help her. The pair took a seat alongside Six, Lance, and Gage. Glasgow sat across from the four alongside Sotiras, Emile, and Jorge.

"Now, about this plan," Glasgow began as he addressed Kat. "The last vessel on Reach left the ship breaking yards a day ago. With the number of Covenant vessels in atmosphere, it can be assumed all orbital defense generators have been destroyed. With our MAC cannons out of operation, and fleet likely massacred, Reach has been essentially abandoned by the UNSC."

"But ships are most likely still in the system," Sotiras added. "The Covenant have pressed their invasion on Reach hard. I mean, they sent around three hundred ships here. That means other worlds like Tribute should still be holding out."

"Potentially," Glasgow admitted.

"So the problem is isolation," Kat replied. "We need to get a message out to any who will hear."

"That's the difficult part," Carter said. "How do we get a message outside orbit?"

"Only a few ways," Kat stated. "If we could get to orbit, perhaps. However, we would still need a relay strong enough to stretch across the system."

"Getting to orbit seems like an impossibility," Six remarked. "All Sabres were used for Operation UPPER CUT. I can't imagine any Longswords were left behind during the evacuation either. Even if some were, I wouldn't know where to look. Reach has more than a hundred military installations."

"And there's no way we're getting off this continent," Jorge added.

"So what options are left?" Glasgow asked the group.

"The ship yards, maybe?" Gage spoke up, surprising the group.

"How would that help?" Emile questioned.

"Well, all UNSC ships have communication arrays, right? It's what lets them communicate with other members of the fleet, and allows them to send distress signals," Gage further explained.

That was when a lightbulb went off inside Six's mind. "If any ships in the process of being dismantled still remain at the ship yards, we could use their equipment."

"It's unlikely any have functioning equipment," Carter stated.

"We don't need fully functioning equipment," Kat suddenly interjected. "Just enough transceivers and internals in case we need the replacements."

Carter cocked an eyebrow at her. "What're you thinking, Kat?"

"I'm thinking there's another way to get a signal out that we're not thinking of," Kat said. "Like, oh, I don't know, one of the relay outposts?"

"Visegrad was inoperable," Carter corrected. "You were the one who said it would take two weeks to fix."

"But Visegrad was just one of three relays," Kat explained. "When the invasion was in full swing, I doubt the Covenant bothered to destroy them all. They were too preoccupied glassing our cities and destroying the orbital defense generators."

Carter simply stood in shock that he had not thought more on the subject, aside from knowing Visegrad would not work.

"There are three primary carrier hubs in the northern hemisphere of Reach, all of which have level five communications packages," Kat continued to detail. "One just so happens to be several miles from Aszod. The Borealis Relay."

"Several miles?!" Lance questioned. "With the Covenant all over, I seriously doubt we'd make it several miles."

"Relax, Marine," Jorge said. "With this many Spartans, we can make it. Besides, those facilities are designed for a fight. It would take a direct glassing for them to crumble."

"Or a dozen tons of explosives," Emile replied with a somewhat maniacal chuckle.

Kat rolled her eyes at the men before continuing. "Point is, if it's still operational, we can get a signal out. It wouldn't hurt though to stop by the ship yards and retrieve replacement parts in case the Covenant broke a few things."

"This…" Glasgow began to say, though he found himself pausing mid-sentence. "This may actually work."

"Do we know any ships are, for a fact, at the ship yards?" Jorge asked.

"We walked through one," Six shrugged.

"I know for a fact the UNSC _Commonwealth _was being taken apart there," Kat stated. "Its communications array was destroyed, but the internals should be in good condition. I would recommend starting there."

"Then it's settled," Carter said as he rose from his seat. "This may be the only option we have, even if it is a gamble. We'll make do, and we'll come out on top," he stated, helmet in hand. "I'll lead the team over."

"Right now? We're doing this?" Gage asked.

"When were you thinking we'd do it, Marine? Time is running out," Carter replied.

Six and Jorge immediately rose from their seats. "We're with you, Commander," Six stated.

As Emile attempted to stand, however, Jorge put a hand to his shoulder. "Not you, Emile. You need to recover, and this base could use a Spartan in case the Covenant show up while we're gone," Jorge said.

With a huff, Emile sat back down and crossed his arms in disgust.

"Anyone else coming?" Carter asked.

Sotiras rose. "I'll go. I've stuck by your Spartans this long. Figure I won't stop here."

To their surprise, Gage also stood. "I've been cooped up in this place long enough. I'll give you what support I can."

When no one else rose, Six nodded to Carter. "Looks like we have our team."

"Indeed," Carter replied, putting his helmet to his head. "Let's move out."

#

_September 1, 2552 19:00 hours Local Reach Time_

A Jackal dangled the decapitated head of a Moa before a Grunt, enjoying the way the smaller member of the Covenant frantically tried to reach the object. However, footsteps from behind forced it to drop the Moa head and turn.

Jorge picked up the Jackal by its throat as Carter shot off the Grunt's head. Jorge was quick to execute the Jackal, and once done, the others approached.

Six looked back to Sotiras and his sniper. "You know what to do."

"Affirmative," Sotiras replied with a salute toward the Spartan.

The group had taken the long way to the ship breaking yards as a means of ensuring they would have the high ground when they assaulted the facility.

"There's the _Commonwealth,_" Carter said as he pointed to the segmented ship ahead of them.

"And there's the Covenant," Jorge remarked, pointing toward the droves of warriors below their position.

"I count five Elites, all Minors except for one Officer," Sotiras informed the group. "Then we've got about a dozen Grunts, with a compliment of Jackal snipers atop the _Commonwealth._"

"We'll let you handle the Jackals, Sergeant," Carter said. "The rest of us will push down the hill and execute the others." He then looked back to Six. "You're the fastest of us, Six. Get down there and do your thing. The rest of us will be right behind you."

"Right," Six replied as he stepped past the commander, a marksman rifle in hand.

"Remember," Carter spoke to the whole team. "The Covenant can't know we're here. None of them are allowed to survive."

Six nodded his head, then leaped down the hillside. A Grunt was quick to spot him as he journeyed down the slope, but as he neared the bottom he simply lifted his weapon in one hand and, once his sight was on the target, fired. Bang! A clean blow to the head sent the Grunt spiraling to ground. Gas from its mask spewed out in all directions, alerting the others to a human presence. Once Six was at the base of the hillside, he found a stack of pipes laying before him and used them as leverage. He dashed up them until he had reached the top and leaped into the air, plasma rippling across the particles around him. The Spartan somersaulted through the air, twisting and turning as the Elites attempted to nail a clean shot. They could not find the right angle, and Six was able to kill three more Grunts before returning to the ground. Once returned to the dirt, he sidestepped an Elite aiming to kick him. In return, he sent his right elbow into the Elite's chest. Once the creature staggered back, he whipped around and fired off four rounds of his DMR. The Elite's shields broke, but it rolled out of the way of a killing blow. The roll bought it an extra moment of life, but once back on its feet, Six had a clear shot. He fired and watched the Minor collapse against the ground. Six then turned to face the others when a blast from a focus rifle sent his shields crackling. He ducked away from full exposure to the weapon, picking cover behind a crate as the Jackal recharged its weapon and waited for him to give up his protected position. However, several sniper rounds soon cracked open the air, and Six heard a friendly voice speak up over comms.

"Jackals down," Sotiras stated.

"Understood," Six replied as he leapt out from behind cover. He tossed a grenade toward another Elite, and watched its shields fail as it stepped away in surprise. A round from a DMR put it down, and Six looked back to see the others finally arriving.

"Sergeant, get down here," Carter called out as he fired into the shielding of another Elite.

Jorge's machine gun shredded four Grunts in an instant, with Gage moving up alongside him to secure two more Grunt kills. Ballistic fire and plasma rounds continued to be exchanged between the groups as Noble Team and their allies pushed further up the ship yards. Carter watched a third Elite fall before looking to the forth. Jorge beat him to the kill, when the Officer beyond it charged a plasma grenade.

"Watch out!" Gage shouted to the others, but Grunt fire distracted them.

Jorge and Carter were quick to finish off the remaining Grunts when they finally noticed the plasma grenade. The Officer reeled its arm back to throw when Six switched to his assault rifle. He unloaded ten rounds into the Officer, causing it to lose its footing and drop the plasma grenade next to it. The Officer looked to the explosive in horror before it erupted a second later, killing it instantly.

"Clear!" Jorge called out.

"Clear!" Sotiras seconded as he approached the group.

"Good work everyone," Carter complimented the team before looking up at the _Commonwealth. _"Now we just need to secure the ship's communications equipment."

The team took the nearest staircase and began to ascend the structure, soon arriving at the wide open compartments of the ship's main deck. They noticed the dead Jackals laying around, and turned in the direction of the bridge.

As the team moved, a strange static suddenly invaded Six's helmet. _Crrck. _Six smacked the side of his helmet, hoping it was silence the problem. It did not. He took a step away from the others as he tried to determine the problem, only to find the static was clearing up. He looked around in confusion as the static began to form words in his helmet. "Anyone else hearing this?" Six asked.

"I am," Carter replied. "These new helmets must have some unneeded channels put in. It's not a big deal. We'll just need to change them when we get back."

"No, it's not just that," Six argued. "It's like I'm getting a signal. I think it may lead somewhere."

Carter turned back in the Spartan's direction. "You're sure?"

"No, sir. But we need to look into all options," Six answered.

Carter sighed, then looked to the others. "If you think it'll lead somewhere, go for it. The rest of us will proceed to the _Commonwealth's _bridge. I'll notify you when we've retrieved what we came for."

"Thank you, sir," Six replied as he took off in the opposite direction.

Carter stepped past the remaining soldiers as he advanced on the bridge. "Let's get this equipment." The team then sprinted forward up the slight incline to where the bridge was. There was only one unsettling thing about the run: a low growling noise coming from beyond. Once the team reached the top of the incline, they came to realize all too late what the sound was.

"Hunters!" Jorge roared as he raised his machine gun, Etilka, to the enemy. He opened fire, but the creatures already had their enormous shields up to protect their Lekgolo innards.

Sotiras shot for the head of the closest Hunter with his sniper, but soon found he was out of ammo. As he reached for his DMR, the Hunter charged up its cannon. He sidestepped the blast, but fell to the ground during the explosion.

"We need to get behind them," Carter said as he aimed for their legs.

"Or past them," Gage stated. "The bridge should still have sealable doors. We could keep them out."

"And leave them as a threat to deal with later? I don't think so," Carter replied.

Then, the Hunters charged. They swung their shields with devilish strength, and one of the pair successfully pinned Jorge against the wall of the _Commonwealth _with its weapon. Jorge was forced to drop his machine gun as he grabbed hold of the creature's shield. "Get this beast off me!" he roared, using all his strength to keep the Hunter from crushing him.

Gage flanked the creature as Carter and Sotiras dealt with the other. He fired into the Hunter's rear armor plating, successfully shattering it after using up an entire magazine. That was when the Hunter turned its cannon in the Marine's direction.

Using the distraction to his advantage, Jorge twisted the Hunter's shield with everything he had, and with a startlingly loud crack, tore it off. The Hunter looked back at him, expressionless as it turned its cannon to fire point blank at the Spartan.

With the Hunter's attention back on Jorge, Gage lunged for the creature's exposed back and stuck a grenade inside its many numerous worms. He pushed himself away from the Hunter, and a moment later watched it explode. The blast sent worm guts splattering all over the ship's hallway.

Jorge reached for his machine gun as Sotiras was sent flying across the hall.

"Need some assistance, you two!" Carter shouted as he emptied the remainder of his magazine into the Hunter, to no avail.

Jorge moved behind the creature as it targeted Carter, and opened fire. Round after round crashed into the Hunter's rear armor, ripping it to tatters. After a few seconds, the armor was no longer a problem. The Hunter turned to face Jorge, but Carter unloaded another magazine into it once it turned, cutting open its backside and killing it.

"Hopefully that was the last distraction," Sotiras grunted as he lifted himself off the ground.

"Let's just get the equipment before more show up," Carter replied as the team entered the bridge.

#

_September 1, 2552 20:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

There were several ships under deconstruction in Aszod's ship breaking yards when the Covenant invaded. After followed the signal, Noble Six found himself inside one known as the UNSC _Starlight. _A single Minor and a squad of Grunts was all that guarded the vessel, which he quickly dispatched before proceeding to the bridge.

There he found the source of his static. His helmet had been picking up interference from a frequency the ship had been using several days earlier. He found the corpses of Marines aboard, and wondered if another team had attempted to use the _Starlight's _communication systems to call for help. Only recently had the ship been receiving a message from off-world. Six quickly moved to the communications terminal and listened in on the message.

"This is the UNSC_ Dusk to Dawn_ broadcasting on all channels in the hopes there are still survivors left on Reach," the voice came across. It had been sent the morning of August 30th.

Six was quick to work the equipment, and activated the microphone in order to get out a message of his own. "This is Spartan-B312 of Noble Team," he addressed, his hands shaking with excitement. However, no response came. "I repeat, this is Spartan-B312 of Noble Team. We are marooned on Reach, and request immediate evacuation."

Something quaked against the floorboards of the ship. It sounded as if something was slowly stepping across metal, but the noise was distant. Six glanced around, yet saw nothing. The sound was constant, and appeared to have a good deal of weight behind it. Rifle in hand, Six was prepared to defend himself against any threat that appeared when, finally, a voice came through the communications station.

"This is Captain Russo of the UNSC _Dusk to Dawn, _do you copy?" the voice announced.

"I copy, sir," Six acknowledged. "My team has civilians with us. We're in the Aszod region and…" he said before hearing static suddenly fill the channel. "Captain?"

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of footsteps from behind.

Six instinctively ducked, then sent the butt of his rifle into the abdomen of an Elite. It was a Zealot. He had been fortunate, as the Zealot swung high with an energy sword. Six quickly turned his rifle on the Zealot, but it was just as fast. It grabbed hold of his weapon's barrel before he could fire, then sent a kick to Six's chest. The Spartan crashed against the communications station, knife in hand. He pushed off the station a second later and aimed to strike through the Zealot's eye, when overcharged plasma from a pistol slammed against his armor. His shields failed, and he stumbled forward into the Zealot. The creature nailed him with another kick, and he fell sideways to the ground.

"Gen 'Onuk wants him alive," a second Zealot stated oddly in English.

"And he shall have him alive," the first replied as it stepped toward Six.

Carter's voice abruptly filled Six's helmet. "We've got the equipment, Six. Rendezvous with us on the _Commonwealth._"

"Zealots have me pinned!" Six shouted over comms, but another swing of the Zealot's leg sent his skull crashing against the hard floor of the ship's deck.

#

_September 1, 2552 20:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Carter and the others sprinted to Six's last known location. As they ran, they eventually came to an opening in the _Commonwealth _where they could get a clear look at the ship Six had gone to investigate. They also saw Zealots exiting the vessel with their teammate in hand.

Carter lost control of his emotions. He free fired in the Zealots' direction, caring little for the inaccuracy of his bullets. The Zealots spotted the humans, and sidestepped their oncoming projectiles with Six over the one's shoulder. Jorge, Sotiras, and Gage all opened fire, to no avail. The enemy was too far away. Carter was about to give chase when he saw a Phantom appear overhead. The Zealots and Six were sucked up a moment later.

"No!" Carter roared as he desperately raced after the ship. It shot away from the area a moment later.

"They took Six," Jorge uttered in disbelief.

"And they know we're here," Sotiras added.

"We have to go after him," Carter stated.

"How?" Sotiras asked.

"I don't know!" Carter snapped. "But I can't abandon him! Not now. Not when everyone just returned from the dead."

"I understand," Sotiras replied in as calm a tone he could muster. "Believe me, I had a team much like you Spartans have now. They all died before even touching the surface of Reach. But here's the fact of our situation: the Covenant knows we're here, and more will be coming to finish us off if we don't get back to SHIELD Base," he explained.

Carter stared out at the unjust world, his mind not quite registering everything that was going on around him. They had defied everything to get where they were, only for one of their best to be snatched away. The worst part was he could do nothing to stop it. Reluctantly, the Spartan eventually turned back to the others. "You're right, Sergeant."

#

_September 1, 2552 21:00 Hours Standard Military Time_

Captain Russo stood aboard the bridge of his Halcyon-class cruiser, _Dusk to Dawn, _in bewilderment. After dispatching his message to Reach's surface, he had expected a response within the hour. A day later, he had completely forgotten about the world as skirmishes across the system kept him and his crew busy. He and a dozen other ships were in battle with three covenant cruisers when he finally received a message from the surface. Then, just like that, it had ended.

"It seems the source was cut off," the officer at the communications station reported.

"The Covenant really are trying to strangle the surface," a crew member remarked before returning to his station.

"We have to help them," Russo stated as he stood amidst the center of a battle.

His commanding Marine, Lennix, approached. "I understand, sir, but right now we are entangled in a desperate battle against those cruisers."

"That was a Spartan!" Russo snapped. "Spartans are alive on the surface of Reach, and have civilians with them. What's more, we know they're in the Aszod region."

"That isn't exactly a small territory, and even so, we have no confirmation they're still alive. You heard the message cut out yourself," Lennix argued.

"We have to at least try! I don't care what Colonel Ackerson says. There are survivors down there, and we have to help," Russo replied sternly.

The Marine sighed. "You're the captain. It's your decision. But, do you think it's worth risking the lives of your entire crew on a few Reach survivors," he said. "Anyhow, we still have this battle to come out of alive first."

Russo pondered the Marine's words closely. Reach was infested with Covenant, and the Aszod region would be a large area to scan. Covenant ships would be on them in minutes, despite having their AI Dravis to guide their slipspace jump into the atmosphere. Why would he risk the lives of hundreds to save a few dozen? "How long until the MAC is back online?" he asked Lennix.

"About five minutes," the Marine reported.

"As soon as it's ready, we fire on the enemy," Russo stated. With a nod of the Marine's head, Lennix left the bridge. Standing there amidst the chaos, Russo knew their conflict would likely take hours to resolve.

#

_September 1, 2552 22:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

The band of four arrived back at SHIELD Base to a horrific sight. As they approached, they noticed an Elite being thrown from the exit tube. Emile stepped through, cocked his shotgun, and fired on the creature's head.

"Who's next?" he asked rhetorically, when another Elite approached from behind. In a heartbeat, Emile whirled around with his kukri firmly gripped. He landed a direct blow to the side of the Elite's skull, and wrestled its lifeless body to the ground.

"What's the situation, Noble Four?!" Carter called out as he and the others approached.

"Taken care of, boss," Emile stated, wiping the blood from his blade. "A team must've been dispatched to find those two Zealots you killed the night before, is all."

"Then we're out of time," Carter muttered as he stepped past the man and entered the base's lower level. Corporal Lance was standing amidst the bodies of Grunts when the team entered.

"I hope you had some success out there, because the Covenant's honing in on our location," Lance said.

"We got the equipment," Carter stated. Then, he paused briefly before continuing. "Six was captured."

"Bloody…" Emile uttered, unable to say anything more.

"We'll talk more once we're upstairs," Carter waved off his teammate. He felt it would only hurt more to tell the story multiple times over. Everyone gathered in the lobby, where the Spartans took center stage.

"Did you get the equipment?" Kat asked.

"Affirmative," Carter replied, with Jorge setting a small crate of equipment down on the lobby's dust-covered front desk.

"Where's Six?" Kat followed up, her eyes expressionless as she came up with the answer for herself.

Carter could not bring himself to tell the group. His gaze merely dropped to the floor in defeat as he shook his head.

At this, Jorge grabbed hold of his leader's shoulder and stepped past. "He was captured by Zealots. He had been following a potential lead when he was taken."

It was then that Glasgow raised a question. "Why would they want him alive? The Covenant's entire goal on Reach has been mass extermination. There should be no reason to leave a Spartan alive."

"Perhaps a superior wants intel from him," Sotiras guessed.

"Or someone has a personal vendetta," Emile remarked with a light chuckle. "That man's killed quite a few Covies in his time. Maybe one of those Elites are looking for payback."

"Whatever the case," Glasgow spoke up. "The sad reality is there's nothing we can do for him. He's likely being taken to a corvette as we speak."

Carter reluctantly nodded in agreement. "We have the equipment we may need if the Borealis Relay is damaged, and with any luck, we'll be able to get a message out."

"Indeed," Glasgow seconded.

"Then we have one option open to us," Carter stated. "We leave for Borealis Relay come the middle of the night. It'll give us the best chances of making it there."

"Once inside, we'll make what repairs may be needed and send out a message to the fleet," Kat added.

"All hogs will be used, I take it?" Lance interjected.

"I'll get them fueled up," Sotiras said as he left the group.

Carter then looked to the civilians. "I want you all packed up and ready to go within the coming hours. Get some rest if you can, because we'll have a tough journey ahead of us."

John, Lisa, Kelly, Serina, Sam, Douglas, Isabella, and Harper all nodded in understanding before returning to their rooms.

As Carter watched the people leave, he could only think of regret for what would come next. "Sorry, Six," he whispered under his breath. "I'm sorry I have to leave you one last time."


	5. Chapter 5: Hope That Lives On

_September 2, 2552 04:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

The group took one Warthog and two transport hogs in order to make their journey. Carter drove the Warthog, with Kat in shotgun and Emile on the turret. Sotiras and Lance drove the others with both Gage and Jorge as their side seat passengers. The first hour of the trip was made in almost complete silence, until little Kelly's voice finally broke the quiet atmosphere that surrounded her transport.

"What's your name?" the girl asked the woman sitting in the seat behind her.

"Isabella," the woman answered without a hint of warmth. However, despite her tone, she followed up her answer with a question of her own. "What's yours?"

"Kelly," the girl replied with a smile.

"Well, Kelly, you sure seem to have a lot of people looking out for you," the woman stated, glancing across the backrest that separated the two sections of rear seats. There she saw the girl's father and mother on either side of her.

"She's been through a lot," John spoke up. "I suppose we all have."

Isabella solemnly nodded her head. "Where were you when they started glassing?"

"Quezon," John answered. "You?"

"Palhaza."

Lisa's voice soon filled the conversation. "It all happened so fast. I heard many people didn't even know the Covenant were here until it was too late."

"But not too late for us," came Jorge's voice from the seat up front, next to Lance. "We're going to get out of this mess."

"Promise?" Kelly asked.

Jorge fell silent. He turned his masked face to those behind him and saw John, Lisa, Isabella, and little Kelly staring back at him. "Promise," he stated in as stern a voice he could muster before turning back to face the front.

Not wanting the conversation to end via eerie silence, John decided to carry on further discussion with Isabella. "What did you do before this?"

"Meaning?"

"What was your occupation?" John corrected himself.

Isabella lowered her head, her gaze at the grass whipping past them as their vehicles raced across the hillside. She almost failed to find it in herself to tell. "Insurrectionist."

John's eyes went wide as Jorge looked back.

"Relax, I can vouch for her," Jorge spoke up. "She proved very helpful in getting people out of Palhaza."

John still could not understand. "Why?" he asked the woman.

"Why does anyone do anything? We think it best, and I thought the insurrectionists were right. Whatever the case, it matters little in the face of the Covenant," Isabella explained. "They'll kill us all if we don't work together, and then there will be no piece of humanity left to war with."

"Well said," Lance remarked from the driver's seat.

Across the way in Sotiras's hog sat doctors Glasgow and Harper, along with Serina, Douglas, and Sam.

"Douglas, please, tell us your story," Glasgow said as he sat alongside his companions.

"My story? Well, my family and I lived in Palhaza for generations," he began. "It was once the Covenant arrived that everything…" his words drifted off. "Well, everything fell apart."

Sam suddenly snapped. "They killed my mom!" The sixteen year old's jaw clenched as tears rolled down his face.

Douglas wrapped an arm around his son before continuing to speak. "Sam here wanted to join up with the Marines, but as you could guess, he was simply too young."

"I almost made it in," Sam muttered.

"Don't be so eager, kid," Sotiras chimed in from the driver's seat. "You've seen plenty of destruction already. Plenty of death. That only increases ten-fold when you join the military. You know, when your job is to actually engage the enemy on every front. I got maybe forty hours of sleep in the past month of fighting. Day in and day out, fighting creatures three times your size, fighting monsters both bigger and stronger than you, and whose weapons are vastly superior to your own. It can make any sane man want to kill himself."

"I just want those monsters to pay," Sam uttered.

"How? By blowing up a ship? They have hundreds. By killing a Ship Master, or maybe even a Fleet Master? They'll just replace them," Sotiras stated. "The Covenant is a war machine unlike anything we've ever seen before. If we're going to beat them, we can't do so purely out of spite. Spite gets you killed."

Gage then joined their conversation. "Sam, you want to know the casualty reports as of August 30th? We lost seven hundred million soldiers. Marines, ODSTs, and even dozens of Spartans died trying to protect a planet that was doomed to fall anyhow. 130 ships were lost, and twenty orbital defense stations destroyed. This is the kind of war you want to join?"

"This is what the Covenant does," Sotiras added. "They're world killers."

"So why do you fight?" Douglas abruptly asked. "It seems to me you believe the Covenant's already won."

"They haven't," Sotiras boldly stated. "Not yet, at least. Maybe we can't beat them by conventional ways, but if there's one thing I've seen from Spartan 117, it's that we're not to be counted out just yet."

"You want to hear the casualty reports for the Covenant?" Gage then asked. "210 ships destroyed., including the largest supercarrier ever witnessed."

"You ever seen a peanut before? Well imagine placing a small little peanut up against a watermelon. That was about the ratio between our ships and that supercarrier," Sotiras expounded on. "And that ship, filled to the brim with millions of Covenant soldiers, was destroyed by just a few Spartans." He then glanced back at the transport picking up the rear of their convoy and saw Jorge sitting calmly with his machine gun in his lap. "It was destroyed by these Spartans. So yes, we're losing this war, but the enemy's paying for it dearly. We don't need to win. We just need to hurt them so badly they finally realize it's not worth continuing."

#

_September 2, 2552 06:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Throbbing pain seeped through Six's skull as his eyes finally opened. He was lying face down in the dirt; not at all where he expected to wake up. There were no shackles or bindings on his body, making him wonder if someone had managed to save him from the Zealots. However, if that were true, he would not be lying in the dirt. Then, he looked up and saw the two toed feet of a massive Elite standing in front of him, though it was facing away from his position. Seeing an opportunity, Six slowly began to push himself off the ground with his hands. He was halfway up when a powerful force suddenly pushed him back down.

"Be still, human," an Elite growled from behind him, and he soon realized a Zealot was flanking either side of him. It was also the moment he came to understand the figure before him was a Field Marshal.

The Marshal turned to Six with as much of a smile as an Elite could show. "Ah, the little demon finally wakes." A Covenant cruiser soared above their position as Reach's star slowly began to peek out over the horizon. It was hard to notice given the thick amounts of smog and debris flowing through Reach's dying atmosphere, but it was there as a faint reminder that the galaxy kept on spinning despite who rose to power the next day.

"You speak English?" Six asked.

"How else could we interrogate your filthy race?" the Field Marshal replied.

"If you wanted to interrogate me, we'd be aboard your ship," Six argued.

The Field Marshal chuckled. "Perceptive. You are correct, I do not have any need to interrogate you."

"Then why keep me alive?" Six questioned.

At this, the Field Marshal lowered its stance to look Six square in the eyes. "You don't recall my brother, do you?"

"Depends. Was he a worthless Field Marshal like yourself?" Six asked with a sneer. His skull was sent crashing against the hard ground a moment later.

"Put him on his knees," the Field Marshal snarled, at which his Zealots followed his instructions. "No, little demon, he was not. Ten 'Onuk led an infiltration team to disable human communications at Visegrad Relay. He was also the one who killed a comrade of yours," he continued to say.

"He wasn't as good a shot as you think," Six replied, thinking back on the near death of Kat to a needle rifle.

"Lastly, he was going to oversee the destruction of your precious _Pillar of Autumn, _when you intervened," the Field Marshal growled.

"So a Field Marshal had been following us since the beginning," Six remarked.

"In a sense, yes," the Field Marshal stated. "You were my brothers greatest challenge, and he aimed to conquer you just as he had all others. Unfortunately for him, he failed."

"And you seek to finish what he started," Six surmised.

The Field Marshal chuckled once more. "I seek to devour the last bit of hope you have, demon." With that, the Zealots picked Six up by his arms and moved him to the edge of the hillside they stood on. With a Minor guarding Six from the rear, he had no chance of escape. "Tell me, do you know where we are?" the Field Marshal asked.

Six's eyes went blank. He sat on his knees, motionless as the Zealots released their hold on him. Down in the desolate valley stood a single structure: Borealis Relay. "What is this?" he finally asked in an attempt to play off the site as nothing significant to him.

"No need to play dumb with me," the Field Marshal said as he looked out at the structure. "As soon as I learned humans, nay, demons, were still alive on Reach, I knew they would try and get a message out." He then turned to face Six. "Why do you think my Zealots were there at the ship yards? They cut your signal, just as they cut the signal on all those ships."

Then, Six saw something else in the valley. To his horror, he watched as his team closed in on Borealis Relay with the civilians in tow. His eyes went wide.

"Didn't think they'd abandon you so fast?" the Field Marshal asked, though he could not see Six's expression beneath his helmet. "My scouts spotted them an hour earlier."

"Then why didn't you do anything?" Six asked, his body trembling at the thought of what the creature would say next.

The Field Marshal grabbed an object on his left hip, and lifted it in order for Six to get a good look at the device. It was a detonator. "So you could know what it's like to see hope die before your very eyes."

"No," Six uttered, helpless to stop the creature. The Zealots would have an energy sword through his chest before he could get so much as a step towards the Field Marshal.

"On this day, demon, I want you to know that I, Gen 'Onuk, am the one who sealed your fate, and the fates of all you care for," the Field Marshal stated. With that, he pressed the detonator.

#

_September 2, 2552 06:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

"We're almost there, people," Carter announced as the group closed in on Borealis Relay.

"Sir," Kat abruptly spoke up. "Don't you find it strange we encountered no resistance on our way here? Not even scouting parties?"

"Perhaps ground forces are clearing out so the remainder of the planet can be glassed," Carter theorized.

"I don't like this," Kat stated. "I'll feel much better once we're behind those titanium walls."

As they approached the road leading to the relay, however, their luck changed. A hundred meters from the facility, Carter heard an explosion go off. He slowed the vehicle, when suddenly the roof of the relay erupted in fire and smoke. The facility shattered, cracking apart as shards of fragmented metal and debris filled the sky. In an instant, the group's hope of getting off-world evaporated.

"No…" Emile's voice carried throughout the convoy.

Kelly had let out a brief scream before being sheltered by her parents. Many of the others stood utterly blindsided and horrified.

"What now?" Jorge called out.

"There's a third relay, right?" Carter looked to Kat.

"Yeah, on the other side of the continent!" Kat shouted back. "This was our only option," she regretfully admitted, her voice fading into nothing as her head sunk in her seat.

"We didn't plant that bomb," Emile eventually said. "Which means the Covenant did."

"They know we're here," Carter uttered, his eyes going wide as he looked to the sky.

A dozen Banshees screamed toward the convoy, with plasma torpedoes being dropped a hundred meters out from their targets.

"Everyone take cover!" Carter shouted as he leaped from his Warthog. Kat slid out the opposite side, but Emile was a second too slow.

The first torpedo landed less than a meter in front of the Warthog, sending it spiraling backwards. Emile was sent into the air, where he backflipped through the chaos like an angel about to be felled. He landed on his feet just past the Warthog, a hand going to his sheathed kukri.

Another torpedo struck the front of Lance and Jorge's hog, though everyone had evacuated it by then. However, as it spiraled through the air, Jorge realized its crash was guaranteed to kill others.

"Everything will be alright. Just stay with us, sweetie," John tried to consul Kelly as he and his wife wrapped their arms around her. They were unaware of the vehicle about to crash on top them.

"Rah!"

The group sheltered their heads as steal crumbled around them. A shadowy presence was behind them as the star beyond slowly rose, and they turned to see Jorge barely holding back the full weight of a transport hog. The family sat awestruck for a moment before deciding to move when, to their amazement, Jorge pushed the vehicle back onto its wheels.

Another torpedo crashed upon the rear of Sotiras's hog, causing it to erupt in smoke and flames.

"Everyone alright?!" Sotiras called out.

"What do you mean?! The Covenant's surrounding us! There's no such thing as alright!" Gage shouted.

Gage's aggressive speech was quickly made quiet by Carter shouting, "Everyone, group up!"

The four Spartans rallied at the center of their formation around most of the civilians, only to look in all directions and find a loss of courage. North, south, east, and west. The direction did not matter. From every which way the Spartans looked, all they spotted were Phantoms arriving for their execution. Elite Rangers were already in midair, plasma repeaters in hand.

"We'll get out of this, right?" Douglas asked, gasping for breath as the anxiety of the situation got to him.

Carter's eyes were wide with terror. What hope could he give the people in a moment such as this. The Banshees were already circling back around for another run. The situation would not have been so bad if it was his first brush with death. But it was not. Everyone standing around him had fought so hard, with every part of their being to survive. They clawed with broken nails and torn bodies to escape death, and they had. All to come here, and finally meet the Reaper.

"We got Elites!" Gage suddenly shouted, before a needle round cut through his heart. The Marine fell into Lance's arms, who opened fire on the nearest Phantom with rage in his eyes.

The region became engulfed in gunfire as Sotiras joined his comrade, firing his DMR into pockets of Grunts stupid enough to come within range.

It was in the chaos of battle, when death was truly minutes away that Carter's mind fell to ease. "Jorge, cover the south!" he barked. "Emile, you and Kat guard the east. I'll take the north. Use the hogs for cover."

"And us, sir?!" Sotiras called out as he dropped an Elite Ranger from the sky.

"Guard the west," Carter ordered. A moment later, he had his body against the destroyed transport hog which carried the corpses of Doctor Harper and Nurse Serina. Their scorched bodies could already be smelled by him as he wiped away all emotion and pulled the trigger. He killed three Grunts and a Jackal before picking off a Minor, only for plasma fire to ripple across his shields as a Ranger soared overhead. He easily sidestepped the next volley of plasma before cracking open the Ranger's skull. All he could hear from the other positions were ballistic projectiles battling against plasma rounds to determine who would fall next. Screams from the civilians could be heard, though he made an effort to tune them out as he continued killing. Then, the bloodcurdling scream of a young girl shattered his eardrums. He glanced over his shoulder to see a man crouched over a girl. In that moment, he could not even remember their names. All he saw were two civilians caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. He turned back to the enemy, a fresh magazine in his rifle when he heard something else break the atmosphere.

"Carter!" the voice shouted.

He ignored it, continuing to send rounds crashing against the shield of an Ultra. Then, the voice suddenly shattered the wall around his mind.

"Carter, my daughter is DYING!" John shouted at the top of his lungs. Sotiras and Lance had been pushed back by nearly a dozen oncoming Elites. They could not help the man.

Carter turned, and saw a father desperately trying to keep the blood from pouring out of his daughter as his wife laid dead beside them. He abandoned his position, but not even he could defeat a dozen Elites in this situation. "Emile!" he suddenly called out.

John hovered over Kelly's body. The girl was surprisingly quiet as he put pressure on her side. A spiker round from a Brute had cut into her abdomen. "I'm here, sweetie!" he cried out as he tried with everything in him to keep his daughter in the world of the living. He did not even spare a glance over his shoulder as an Elite raised its energy sword to him. All he cared about was saving his daughter. He felt the heat of the blade against his body, but it did not enter him. Instead, he watched a shadow pass over his body, and heard the sound of a dying Elite.

"Come on!" Emile roared as he leaped from the toppling corpse to another Elite. He plunged his kukri into the dead center of its skull, then spiraled off the body into a third. He carved out its throat before sliding past a fourth and slicing at its knee. Carter was quick to put a bullet through its brain as Emile sidestepped a Brute's spiker and sent his blade in through the beast's lower jaw. He then twisted away from the creature, plunging his kukri into the chest of an Ultra. The Elite shoved him away, leaving his knife still imbedded in its chest. The Ultra then raised its plasma rifles to fire. Its weapons fired, but Emile was already below the firing line. He tackled the Ultra to the ground, reach for his blade, and pulled it down into the Ultra's heart. He then wrenched the kukri free of his target and stood, only to find himself far from friendly lines. A Spirit was quick to deploy a dozen more Elites, of which half were Ultras. "Is this the best you got?!" Emile roared as he began to back up, kukri still firmly in his hand. Plasma crashed against his shielding, and he reached for his shotgun when a Brute in his blind spot violently rammed against his body. Emile was sent tumbling, his shotgun landing several feet away from him. Though he tried to recover, the Brute was already on him. It was about to send the spikes of its rifle through his abdomen when a flurry of ballistic rounds suddenly tore into its armor. The Brute backed off, turning its attention to another when a round cut cleanly through its eye.

"You alright, Spartan?" Isabella questioned. After Gage was killed, she had picked up his rifle.

"I'm good," Emile replied as he reached for his gun. He looked back to the woman, and saw the face of someone who, like him, had been ravaged by the plagues of war. He also saw shimmering from behind her. "Watch out!" he shouted as he grabbed his shotgun.

Before Isabella could turn, an energy sword was through her chest.

"No!" Emile roared, firing into the Special Ops Elite with his weapon. The first shell splattered against its shields, but the second was enough to send its body tumbling to the ground.

By then, Sotiras and Lance had rotated to cover the north while Carter faced the west, assisting Emile. Despite the soldiers giving everything they had, it only fractionally slowed the enemy. The only position seeming to truly halt the enemy's advance was Jorge's spot holding the south. With Etilka in hand, he cut through the shields of nearly a dozen Elites in mere seconds. Those who did not seek cover were quickly cut down.

At least six Elites moved up on Kat from the east. She used up a full mag on the first Minor, and tossed a frag into the cluster before reloading. The explosive sent many rolling for cover, their shields down. Kat was able to realign her pistol after reloading and shot three straight through the head. With two elites left, she reached for another grenade and threw it. It landed directly at the feet of one, who exploded into bits of bone and flesh shortly after. The sixth, however, managed to leap atop the Warthog and avoid Kat's ballistic fire. It was quick to land on top of her, and sent a fist to her skull. Pressure against her brain was immense, and the woman nearly passed out from the agony. The Elite pointed its plasma rifle to her when magnum rounds suddenly slammed against its armor. Once its shields were down, a clean shot to the eye left its body crumbling to the ground beside Kat.

Just past the woman, panting with his hair a flattened mess was Doctor Glasgow.

"Where'd you get that?" Kat asked, struggling to return to her feet.

"I always keep an M6H magnum on my person," Glasgow stated as he helped the woman to her feet. However, John's voice soon called him away from Kat, who collapsed against the Warthog moments after he disappeared.

"I… I can't," Kat mumbled to herself as she rested against the Warthog. "I can't keep fighting."

"Kat!" Carter's voice rang out as he moved to her side. "You alright?!"

"Yes, I just…" Kat tried to say. "My head. I don't feel right."

"I've got you covered," Carter replied as he raised his rifle to a fast approaching Spirit.

"Carter…"

"I need you on your feet, Kat. We can only get through this together," the man stated as he dropped a Jackal while it was still inside the Spirit.

"Carter!" Kat shouted, her voice shaky. "We're not getting out of this."

The man could hear light sobbing from beneath the woman's helmet. He then looked to the battle around him, and his bloodlust ceased. Jorge had been pushed back from their remaining transport, plasma splashing across his shields as he moved to their position. Emile was moving with a limp now, and Corporal Lance had a hole in his right shoulder. Sotiras was defending John and Kelly as Glasgow came to their aid when a needle round struck his abdomen. Due to the range, the round had not fully cleared his side, so he simply plucked it from his side and kept firing. Douglas and Sam were at the very middle of their formation, holding each other as family ready to leave the world together.

Carter removed his helmet. "Catherine… I'm sorry."

"For what?" Kat asked, still lying on the ground before him. "For always being there when the others needed you? When I needed you?"

"I wish I could get us out of here," Carter stated plainly, his eyes to the ground. Plasma rounds flew in all directions, yet none seemed to strike him. It was as if the world was still for him and her.

"We're Spartans, sir," Kat replied. "Bred and trained to do the difficult. But this?"

Carter looked to her with eyes that desperately sought to find some hope in the world. Some spark that could give him an ounce of the energy needed to save his team, to save the people they had journeyed so far with, and to save her. He found nothing.

"This, Carter, is impossible. Not even 117 could make it through Hell," Kat said.

"So what do we do?" Carter asked, his eyes blank.

Kat extended her hand. "Hold on to what we love."

Carter knelt down, and took the woman's hand with his own. In his other he still gripped his rifle, and pointed it to the enemy. "For as long as possible."

#

_September 2, 2552 07:00 Hours Local Reach Time_

Six made no sound. There was no furious rage that spurred him to spew foul language from his mouth. There was no ceremonial speech he could give. The world merely opened up like a sinkhole to the abyss and welcomed him in, as it already had his teammates. His view of the battle had quickly become obscured by numerous Phantoms swooping low over Reach's dead and dying surface. All he could do was allow the tears to flow. He made little noise as his emotions showered his face in liquid, much to the displeasure of Gen 'Onuk.

"You see, little demon, this is the fate your heretical race has earned," Gen spoke. "We will burn your worlds, every last one of them. We will turn your species' very existence to glass. You may fight, gnash your teeth, and refuse to go quietly into the night, but eventually your kind will be nothing more than a memory. Soon after, not even that."

"You came to our homes first," Six finally said. "You come to our shores, threaten our existence, and then spew trash like that out your spider shaped, mongrel faces."

"Finally," Gen remarked. "I do so enjoy victims giving their own eulogies." Then, he ignited his energy sword. "You have killed many of my kind. That I have no doubt. But I have killed many more of yours."

As Six stared down the blade, he felt strange. This was not how he expected to fall. Time and time again, he had risked his life so others could continue living. Now he was helpless to save others, and could not even save himself. There was something grossly unsatisfying about it. Yet still he had allowed humanity's greatest chance for survival escape the system days prior. His accomplishments would ring out across the stars, even long after his death. What did he truly expect from staying on Reach? Despite all he had fought for in the days following the _Pillar of Autumn's_ escape, did he really believe he would survive? In the end, he realized this truly was never a battle he, nor anyone else could win.

The blade drew closer, crackling against the dirt it was driven through on its path towards Six's body. As it approached, Six heard strange interference on his helmet. He feared the cries of his teammates falling one by one, but their voices did not reach him. Instead he heard static. Just static. _Crrck. Crrck. _The noise continued to repeat, when he suddenly realized why.

"With this blade, I vanquish the demon!" Gen 'Onuk roared to his Elites.

"You want Reach?" Six abruptly spoke up. "You can have it. But my team and I are leaving."

Gen 'Onuk laughed as he swung his blade. Before he could score a kill, the world quaked.


	6. Chapter 6: Epilogue

_September 2, 2552 07:30 Hours Local Reach Time_

Alone amidst the desolate world, with foes on all sides, the _Dusk to Dawn _emerged from slipspace a mere mile from the surface of Reach. As the crew readied all stations, they were forced to quickly veer off their current trajectory, as they were nearly touching a Covenant cruiser.

"Brace, all hands!" Captain Russo announced. "I want Longswords outbound to clear the skies. Ready the ODSTs for drop and get the Pelicans' engines fired up. We have minutes before the entire enemy fleet is bearing down on us."

"Sir," Dravis said from the terminal beside Russo's command station. "That cruiser's shields are down."

Russo stared blankly at the enemy vessel before them, wondering how many human souls it had stolen from the world. "Fire all batteries!"

Ballistic cannons rang out across all decks, shredding the enemy cruiser's midsection. Longswords were soon to pick up the slack as they shot out of the _Dusk to Dawn's _hangar and shelled the Covenant cruiser with another volley. The enemy vessel was caught immeasurably off guard to the point its cannons were not even manned. By the time it could retaliate, its midsection was splitting in half.

"Good kill!" Lennix cheered from beside the captain.

Russo nodded in approval, when Dravis suddenly pulled his attention once more.

"It appears there is a lone Spartan below us," Dravis said. "Zealots encompass his position."

"Then let's give him a hand," Russo replied.

#

_September 2, 2552 07:30 Hours Local Reach Time_

Gen 'Onuk looked on in shock as his battlecruiser shattered at the center, only to plummet to the ground around them moments later. A snarl erupted from his being as he watched a UNSC cruiser soaring where his vessel once had. "How?" he growled, unable to comprehend their predicament. The only conclusion he could arrive at were his Zealots' incompetency at disabling the ships' communication arrays at the Aszod ship yards.

The warriors around him were so preoccupied with the chaos above that they neglected the Spartan amidst their ranks. When the first Zealot turned back, he reluctantly called out, "The demon's gone!"

"What?!" Gen roared as he whirled around, staring down at gravel which once contained a humbled Spartan. "Find him! That vermin does not escape my grasp."

The pair of Zealots and their Minor counterpart began looking in all directions. As the Minor checked the perimeter, however, it suddenly heard footsteps approaching from its rear. It turned to find a pair of feet slamming against its lower jaws. Six backflipped off the Elite, returning to solid ground moments later with the Minor's energy sword flying through the air. He caught it as gravity took hold and watched the blade, fuming with plasma, ignite.

"You want me?!" Six shouted, staring Gen dead in the eyes. "Come and get me!"

Gen snarled as he pointed to the Spartan. His Zealots lunged forward a split second later, their swords illuminating the smog-filled region as they rushed the enemy.

Six leapt from the ground, moving into a full sprint as he eyed Gen 'Onuk with an unbridled rage. All his emotion erupted in seconds. He dropped his legs to the ground as the first Zealot approached, and slid below its blade as he carved through its abdomen. He leapt into a spiral upon passing his opponent, and whipped around midair to bring his sword diagonally across the second Zealot before finally coming to stand before Gen 'Onuk.

The Field Marshal activated an energy sword in his left hand, and whipped out a plasma rifle with his right. He aimed the rifle at his opponent, ready to fire when the air suddenly split open.

Six watched Gen 'Onuk disappear amongst smoke and ballistic fire. He then looked up to see the UNSC _Dusk to Dawn _firing on the region around him, clearing his escape route.

#

_September 2, 2552 07:33 Hours Local Reach Time_

Glasgow had bandaged up Kelly's wound, though he wondered what good it would do in the end. There was no surviving their predicament.

Jorge, Emile, Sotiras, and Lance were practically on top of the civilians as droves of Elites, Brutes, Jackals, and Grunts swarmed their position. The group fired until their weapons were emptied, then either reloaded or switched to knives. Jorge's armor was beginning to crack under pressure from the onslaught of plasma fire, when Emile suddenly called out, "Generals!"

A dozen Generals descended on the humans with energy swords and concussion rifles in hand. A single round was enough to send Emile sprawling across the ash-coated ground toward where Noble One and Two sat, waiting for the inevitable.

Carter fired his DMR over the top of the Warthog, but he had lost his focus. His rounds pinged off enemy shields, barely slowing them. Ultras flashed their swords, Minors raised their rifles, and the horde of Covenant troops prepared for one final volley. Carter heard blasts from all around, and shut his eyes.

"Don't let go," Kat's voice suddenly pierced his ears.

There was nothing but a void of emptiness in the man's mind. He did not know if he had been shot, or if he was even still grasping Kat's hand with his. All he knew was the end had come. Oblivion was upon them.

Engines were heard approaching. Phantoms? No, too loud.

Carter's eyes shot open as Phantoms crashed all around him. Longswords swooped low, their guns turning all who were not friendly to smoke and ash. Carter tilted his head to the sky, and saw the underside of an enormous cruiser roaring overhead, its cannons firing in all directions. Then, there was a transmission.

"This is Captain Russo of the UNSC _Dusk to Dawn. _Your current location is too hot. We're setting down Pelicans a mile east of your position. Be there if you want to make it out of here alive," Russo stated over all frequencies.

Carter looked around. Jorge was still standing. Emile was still alive, and half a dozen civilians still needed saving. He looked to Kat, whose eyes were wide like his, and found the hope he had been so desperately trying to find. He rose from his position, gunned down the last Ultra ahead of him, and reached for his helmet. "Noble, on me!"

Everyone rallied. Emile was the first to clamber atop the Warthog's still functioning turret and open fire. While all Phantoms in the area had been shot down, dozens of Elites remained standing. As Emile spun around in all directions with the machine gun lighting up the dust-coated world, Sotiras leaped toward the only surviving transport hog. While damaged, the vehicle was still operational, and Sotiras shouted for everyone to pile in. Lance took shotgun, with Jorge climbing in the back to protect the civilians.

Carter was about to climb into the Warthog's driver seat when another communication managed to reach his helmet.

"Noble One, you still kicking?"

It was Six. "Affirmative," Carter replied, awestruck by the voice he was hearing. "We thought you'd be aboard a Covenant cruiser by now."

"Not quite, sir. Turn around," Six said.

Carter spun around in a heartbeat, only to see an Elite Minor on a far hill overlooking his position. A moment later, it was dropped by an energy sword to the side. Even from that great distance, Carter could witness Six saluting him.

"It's been an honor, sir," Six spoke before ending communications.

Carter turned back to the hog. He knew what needed to be done. With that, he helped move Kat into the transport hog.

#

_September 2, 2552 07:37 Hours Local Reach Time_

Six had taken a big risk saying what he had to the Field Marshal. There was no guarantee that static he heard was that of Captain Russo and his ship emerging from slipspace. All he had was the instinct to act on a bluff, and it paid off. Yet, it was not until he finally saw the Halcyon-class cruiser moving toward their extraction point that he realized he had done it. His team would be saved after all.

"Spartan," Russo's voice filled Six's helmet. "We have minutes before Covenant cruisers are on us. Pick up that pace of yours and move to the LZ!"

"Sir, yes sir," Six replied as he took off in a dead sprint across the hillside. Faster than any average human could hope to be, he raced at nearly thirty-five miles an hour toward the ship. It would not be enough. That was when he heard the sound of a vehicle all too familiar to him.

"Six!" Carter shouted as he pulled up along the hill. "We gotta get out of here!"

Six leaped from the hillside, crashing hard against the seat next to his commander seconds later. He reached for his rifle upon landing, and cocked it as the pair drove toward their extraction point, with Emile on the gun.

Remaining Spirits and Phantoms raced to the region beneath the _Dusk to Dawn, _determined to prevent an escape. However, they were no match for the swift Longswords which zipped around their home ship's perimeter, creating a protective zone against hostile air forces.

It was the ground where things went sideways. As the soldiers and their civilian counterparts neared the extraction zone, it became apparent the Covenant was willing to use everything at their disposal to stop them. Grunts with charged plasma grenades sallied out from crevices amongst the rocks and ran at the vehicles with every ounce of their strength. Emile was quick to gun them all down, and explosions rippled across the region as dozens of suicide Grunts dropped their payloads.

The team believed they were in the clear when they spotted a pair of Revenants and half a dozen ghosts racing to meet them from just off their left side. Emile redirected his turret, but he only managed to stop a single ghost. Six fired over Carter's head at the enemy, with Jorge doing the same from the rear of his transport hog. Two more Ghosts were shot down, but the rest would soon be upon them. That was when the team heard more noises from above.

"There they drop!" Sotiras cheered. "Straight into Hell!"

Two dozen drop pods were loosed from the _Dusk to Dawn's _underside, landing in the region surrounding the pair of hogs. One even managed to crash on top of a Ghost, shattering the vehicle on impact. ODSTs shot free of their pods and raised their weapons to the enemy vehicles, shooting down what they could.

"Clear the zone!" one of the senior ODSTs barked as he pointed his rifle to oncoming Elites.

It was then the Spartans leaped from their rides to support their allies. For the first time in a long while, the humans outnumbered the few Elites who dared to challenge them. Sotiras moved to stand alongside his brethren as they fired on several Generals who were attempting to get in close with their Concussion rifles. After a minute of fighting, the final remaining Elites retreated.

"Oorah!" Lance roared, pounding a fist against the right side of his chest.

"Oorah!" the ODSTs shouted in unison.

Emile could not help but laugh at the gesture. "Just like old times."

By then, the Pelicans had arrived. Their rear hatches opened, and Marine teams were quick to urge the others in. The Spartans helped the civilians inside as Sotiras, Lance, and the other ODSTs clambered aboard. All were nearly in, when a Longsword was shot down.

Russo's voice echoed across all channels. "Covenant cruisers approaching on all fronts! We need to go, now!"

Sam had nearly climbed inside when plasma from a focus rifle struck him in the leg. The boy screamed in agony as he stumbled to the ground. Plasma from an encroaching Phantom struck the Pelican a moment later.

"We have to leave!" the pilot announced as he pushed the vehicle off the ground.

"My son!" Douglas cried, but they were meters away from the boy by then.

It was at that moment Sotiras and Six spared a glance at one another. "Alpha and Omega, right?" Sotiras whispered to the Spartan.

"Don't," Six tried to say, but Sotiras was already outside the Pelican.

The ODST ran to the boy. "You're not dying here, kid," he said through clenched teeth as he grabbed Sam by his shirt and pants. With all his strength, he stepped toward the Pelican and threw him.

Ten feet in the air, Sam would never have made it. Yet, he didn't have to. Six was there to catch him. By then, they were moving out to more than fifty meters from Sotiras.

"Sergeant!" Six roared, but there was nothing he could do. Helpless, he watched the very man who had saved him from hordes of Elites stare down the same fate.

"I'm sorry, Six," Carter said.

The Spartan turned to look at all those inside the Pelican: ODSTs, Marines, yes. But more than that, innocents who had seen and experienced what they never should have been forced to. He watched John wrap Kelly in the tightest, most passionate hug he had ever witnessed. The man had tears streaming from his eyes as he attempted to erase the horrible memories from Kelly's mind. He would never have the same innocent girl back that he had been raising a month ago. Yet they were safe. Douglas similarly hugged his son, whose life had been traded for the sacrifice of another. How could one save a life knowing they would be giving up their own? It seemed only Six truly understood how that felt, when he suddenly reached for the armory rack.

#

_September 2, 2552 07:41 Hours Local R- -_

Reach was truly dead. All that treaded upon it now were creatures bred for the sole purpose of extermination. Sotiras stared down a General who was flanked by Ultras, and beyond them half a dozen Minors. On all sides of him, Elites moved in. Perhaps if he were a Spartan, he would be lucky enough to take half the creatures down with him. But he was not. He was just a man masquerading as a hero, but the only heroes people beyond Reach knew of were survivors. John-117 was a survivor. Fred, Kelly, and Linda were all survivors. More than that, they were Spartans. From the very beginning of their training, it seemed their names had been etched into the very fabric of human history. No, the world would never forget them. Not now, not a hundred years for now. But him? He was one of millions. He was expendable. When the last of Reach was finally glassed, there would be no trace of his existence. In that moment, Sotiras wondered if there was ever really a point to him saving that boy.

Yet he could never truly be erased. He may have been expendable, but not to them. Not to the Spartans he saved. In that moment, he realized there was nothing to regret. Because of him, Noble Six lived. Because of him, Carter was returned to his team. Because of him, a boy was saved from certain death. They would never forget him. At least, that was what he hoped for. In the end, he was satisfied. There were no regrets from him as he raised his rifle and dagger to the enemy. His beginning and end had finally come.

Plasma rang out as Sotiras fired off his DMR. His armor cracked apart at the shoulder, but he continued to fight. A Minor made the mistake of getting too close, and he rammed his dagger into its throat. However, as its body fell, a plasma round clipped his left leg. He failed to retrieve his knife from the Elite's body, and returned both hands to his rifle as he took down the shields of an Ultra. Another round struck him in the back, and his vision went blurry.

In that moment, Sotiras could have sworn he saw his team standing beside him. All his brothers from the ODSTs who had never made it to their drop zone. They were calling him home. In that moment, he could have sworn rockets were shooting down from the sky like a celebration that he had finally made it through Hell. But, those rockets were real.

A powerful force collided with Sotiras's body, and his legs were brought off the ground.

"You saved my life, Sotiras," Six said as the pair zipped through the air. "Now, I save yours."

Sotiras was left stunned as the Spartan, with his jetpack strapped tightly to his back, returned them to the Pelican which soared high above. All he could think to say was, "Thank you, sir."

The Pelicans were aboard the _Dusk to Dawn _within moments of having saved the last ODST. The remaining Longswords returned a minute after that.

"Everyone aboard?" Russo doublechecked from the bridge.

"All that survived, anyway," Dravis stated with a nod.

"Then get us out of here!" Russo barked. The ship's cannons were still firing as it began to enter slipspace from in orbit. The shockwaves emitting would kill all hostile ground forces in the area. It was only once the ship was halfway through its jump that enemy cruisers were finally in range. They opened fire, striking blows to several of the ship's engines. Russo felt his vessel shake from the bridge, but by then, they were through. The ensuing blast from entering slipspace in orbit would decimate the Covenant's forces in the Aszod region. It was finally over.

#

_September 2, 2552 08:00 Hours Standard Military Time_

The five Spartans and Corporal Lance stood within one of the many corridors of the _Dusk to Dawn _when Captain Russo rounded an adjacent hallway to meet them.

"There they are," Russo smiled as he approached the soldiers. "Noble Team in the flesh."

"Captain," Carter replied as he and the others stood at attention.

"At ease," Russo stated, patting Corporal Lance on the shoulder as he passed. "You're one lucky Marine, you know that?"

"Yes, sir," Lance answered. "These Spartans are something else."

"Indeed, but I reckon you're made of sterner stuff too if you managed to survive all that," Russo said to Lance before turning back to the Spartans. "Walk and talk with me, everyone."

"What's going to happen with the others?" Six abruptly asked.

"The civilians are being treated for wounds alongside Sergeant Sotiras," Russo answered. "I would say we'd be relocating them as soon as possible, but unfortunately, that's not an option."

"What do you mean?" Carter asked.

"Ship took too many hits to the engines during our escape," Russo stated. "Dravis was able to get us back into human space, but, virtually uninhabited human space as he put it."

"I can still hear you, sir," Dravis remarked as he appeared on one of the numerous AI hardlines which ran throughout the ship. He appeared as a blue, well-dressed man with hair that fell over his right eye.

"Point is, we don't have the engine power to propel us through another slipspace jump," Russo continued as he rolled his eyes at Dravis. "While Dravis will continue to send out distress messages, it's unlikely anyone will hear. Therefore, we have only one option left open to us." By then, the group was standing within the ship's cryo bay. Many of the crew were already entering cryonic sleep when they arrived.

"Cryo sleep," Carter uttered.

"Unfortunately, yes," Russo stated. "I feel it is a misallocation of military resources, especially when we are needed more than ever to fight the Covenant; but, alas there is nothing further we can do at this time."

"Will everyone we put under?" Kat asked.

Russo looked to the woman. "With the loss of many of my crew members, yes. There are enough pods to put everyone asleep. We also have plenty of cytoprethaline and bronchial surfactant for everyone to take beforehand so no unwanted side effects occur during cryo sleep."

"How will we know when help had finally come?" Carter asked.

"Dravis will keep watch while we are asleep," Russo stated, nodding to the holographic image of their AI near a divide in the cryotubes.

"So this is it?" Six asked.

"It is," Russo replied. "Why don't you all get ready? I saved a nice little corner for you all against the south wall."

"Appreciate it," Carter said as he and the others left to inject the chemicals they would need for cryo sleep.

In the medical bay, more apprehension was shown toward the cryotubes.

"We're really about to go to sleep for who knows how long?!" Emile vehemently voiced his opinion.

"What do you propose we do?" Carter replied.

"I for one could use the rest," Jorge spoke up. "It'll be a nice break from all the chaos we've seen. Besides, I heard we barely age while in those things."

"You'd be right," Kat added. "We'll be awake in no time."

A moment later, Sotiras was standing beside the crew. "How's everyone feeling about this?"

"Good to see you up and moving, soldier," Carter greeted.

"We're ready," Six answered the man.

Lance nodded his head in agreement, at that was the end of it.

Within the hour, the group was ready. They returned to the cryo bay without much more said, until they spotted the people whose lives they had saved.

"There are our brave heroes," Glasgow beamed with a smile and a wave. Behind him were John, Kelly, Douglas, and Sam, who all solemnly waved toward them.

"We owe you our lives just as much," Kat replied. "Along with those we lost."

Glasgow nodded, knowing it was not he who had saved Kat. "Doctor Harper would be glad to know his greatest triumph lives on."

As the others talked, Six spared a look over at John and Kelly. Just as they were about to enter their tubes, Kelly saw him. She beamed with the brightest smile he had ever seen, and ran to him with the sort of enthusiasm only a child could conjure. She hugged him with every ounce of energy she had left, and he returned with a gentle pat to her back. "Glad to see you're doing alright, kiddo."

"Thank you, mister," Kelly replied as she took a step back from him. Then, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out an item Six had never seen before. It was a little stuffed doll shaped to look like a girl, which Kelly handed to him.

"What's this?" the Spartan asked as he took it from her hand.

"You don't remember?" Kelly asked. "It was my favorite toy. I dropped it on Fumirole, but you gave it back to me."

Six could barely maintain his composure. "Sweetie, the man who saved you there…"

Kelly tilted her head out of curiosity.

"He's protecting your mother now."

Six half expected Kelly's eyes to go wide with confusion, then fill with sadness. They did not. Instead, the girl showed a faint smile on her face. "I'll see them again someday." Six attempted to return the toy, feeling he did not deserve it, when the girl forced it back into his hand. "You can give it back the next time I see you."

At this, Six smiled. He took the toy gently in his hand, and waved to the girl as she ran to meet up with her father. John nodded thankfully to Six before he and his daughter entered their cryotubes.

Douglas and Sam were the next to enter theirs. Doctor Glasgow followed soon after. Eventually it was time for the soldiers to go. Lance entered his without much said, and Sotiras followed after. Before his pod was shut, however, he spared a glance at Six. "See you on the other side," he said before his pod's door sealed.

Jorge was the first of the Spartans to enter. Then it was Emile, followed by Kat. When the woman finally entered her pod, she put her hand to the door as Carter placed his over hers. A moment later she was frozen, and Carter stepped over to Six.

"See you when we wake, Noble," Carter said. He took Six's hand, and the pair leaned in to pat each other on the back one last time before they stepped into their respective pods.

"At long last," Six remarked as his door sealed shut. "The nightmares. The suffering. The anguish." He felt himself drifting into sleep. "They're finally over."

#

_July 7, 2559 12:00 Hours Standard Military Time_

"Remind me again why we're out here," a Spartan wearing armor resembling that of an ODST remarked as he looked to his commanding officer.

"Because I found this," a dark-skinned man, wearing GEN2 Mjolnir armor said as he approached the other. He allowed footage to display from his handheld device, which, while filled with static, displayed Spartans fighting against Covenant forces.

"What am I looking at?" the other asked.

"It's footage from Reach, Buck," the Spartan said before deactivating the footage.

"Reach? It was glassed to a crisp. How'd you get that footage, Locke?" Buck questioned, cocking an eyebrow at his superior.

"Scouting teams were sent there years ago to see if anything survived. They found a decommissioned drone that had apparently been shooting footage until its battery eventually died," Locke explained. "The footage was taken on September second, after Reach was supposedly abandoned."

"Okay, great," Buck commented. "A few Spartans managed to survive the chaos a bit longer than most. What's your point?"

"They survived," Locke said as their Pelican swerved around another asteroid. There they found a Halcyon-class cruiser with the name _Dusk to Dawn _engraved on its side. "Reports indicate a single vessel broke formation in the Reach Defense Coordination Zone on September second, the same day the footage of those Spartans was taken."

"This is crazy. You know that, right?" Buck said. Locke did not appear to care. "Oh well, at the least we could use the help," Buck sighed as he relinquished whatever point he was trying to make.

Once aboard the cruiser, the pair found it oddly empty. Buck first suggested it may have been abandoned, though Locke knew better. Many of its systems were still online. Buck followed Locke's lead as he approached the cryo bay, and there he found his prize. Along the south corner, he came face to face with what he had been searching for.

"Who are they?" Buck asked as he tried to figure out what he was staring at.

"Some long lost heroes," Locke stated. Suddenly, a holographic image appeared on the wall. Locke was quick to raise his battle rifle.

"Gre.. gra… greetings," Dravis attempted to say, though an unfriendly smile was forced upon his face.

"Are you the ship's AI?" Locke asked.

"Affirmative, Spartan," Dravis replied. "Though, you appear far different from the Spartans I've known."

"Times change. How long have you been in service?" Locke continued to question.

Dravis lowered his holographic gaze to the floorboards in sadness. "At least seven years. Could have been a little longer, on account of my damaged chronometer."

"You know…" Locke began to say.

"I know!" Dravis snapped. "AIs like me deteriorate around this time. I should have killed myself by now, but…"

"But what?"

Dravis simply shrugged. "I didn't want to die alone." He then looked back to the Spartan. "Are you here for the crew?"

"Yes," Locke answered cautiously. Most AIs by then had joined Cortana. He had no way of knowing whether Dravis was aware of her cause or not.

"Good," Dravis replied. "I can wake them up, it you'd like. Then, at least I won't be alone when I… when I pull the plug."

"I would appreciate that very much," Locke said before turning to Buck. "Send the _Infinity _our coordinates. We found them."

#

_July 7, 2559 14:00 Hours Standard Military Time_

Dravis terminated himself an hour prior under Captain Russo's supervision.

By then, Locke had already brought the others aboard the _Infinity. _He informed them of the Created Conflict that was consuming the galaxy, and how they were desperate for more people to help stand against Cortana's wrath. He would have continued expounding on the situation when another Pelican touched down in the hangar.

"Good, they're finally back," Locke said as he gestured for the others to follow.

Spartans Carter, Kat, Emile, Jorge, and Six stepped toward the gunship as its rear hatch opened. Six stood with Carter and Kat to his right and the others to his left. He crossed his arms as he looked intriguingly toward the Pelican's interior. Several figures soon came into view.

The first had to duck below the Pelican's roof in order to exit. The others aside from Six widened their eyes upon seeing a Spartan nearly the size of Jorge exit the Pelican and step toward them.

"That's him," Carter uttered.

"The big man himself," Emile seconded as they looked out on John-117.

Alongside the Spartan stepped an enemy all too familiar to the others. Kat had a hand on her sidearm when Carter stopped her. The Elite towered over John, and was adorned in golden armor. To John's right stepped another, though he wore no armor. The lack of armor made it even easier for the members of Noble Team to recognize him.

"Jun," Carter said.

A smile was on the man's face. "After all this time, it's good to finally have you back, Commander." Jun then looked to the others. "All of you."

#

As the others talked, Six stared down at the doll in his hands. Kelly never did wake from her sleep, nor did her father. Yet Six was not sad. He knew she was finally reunited with her parents, who would be permanently by her side. And with them would stand Thom for eternity.

After all, Spartans never truly died. They were just missing in action.


End file.
